But - and I tread carefully here - does he really deserve his place in the pantheon of children's writers?
Let me put it this way. If you are feeling despondent about the way things are nowadays, then here's something to cheer up you: you can take it from me that we are living in a golden age of writing for the very young. To be blunt, in the Olden Days they didn't have Julia Donaldson. The Gruffalo, Stick Man, The Snail and the Whale, Zog, Tabby McTat, Room on the Broom - I could go on and on. Any one of these would be an instant classic, but as a body of work they are extraordinary. They have something for everyone, from quick-witted amoralism (The Gruffalo) to reassuring traditionalism (Stick Man), from sensible feminism (Zog) to being-appealing-to-Gordon-Brown-ishness (The Snail and the Whale), all with proper rhyme and rhythm, exciting stories and satisfying twists. And then there is The Paper Dolls: has any book wrought so many tears from so many adults in so few words?
No one else is quite in Donaldson's league, but there are many other talented writers working today. It would be invidious to name names, but trust me there are lots of them. And young children also have all the wondrous innovations of books with flaps and levers and bits to pull and bits to stroke and bits that make noises, many of which are ingeniously and carefully put together by people who obviously understand and care about children.
To all these modern marvels we can add the older treasures that have endured, the Shirley Hugheses, the Tiger Who Came to Teas and the Rosie's Walks. And the AA Milnes, Dr Seusses, David McKies and Maurice Sendaks, and let's not forget the Erics, Carle and Hill.
But somehow, nestling in company with The Very Hungry Caterpillar and unaccountably above The Bog Baby, is Michael Rosen.
Now, I know that some people like We're Going on a Bear Hunt. But (a) Rosen only adapted the words from a song (he added "swishy-swashy" and "squelch-squerch") and (b) you have to admit that at least 90% of the joy of the book consists in the excellent illustrations by Helen Oxenbury, the source of all of the book's drama, interest and mystery. If you think of Bear Hunt with fond emotion, it is probably because you are thinking of that group of children helping each other over the arbitrary obstacles Rosen has thrown at them, the pictures dreamily reminiscent of some golden half-remembered holiday from your own childhood; or else you are thinking of the final wordless scene in which we see the lonely bear at his beachy cave by the edge of the world - in short, you are reaping what Oxenbury, not Rosen, has sown.
Rosen has now written A Great Big Cuddle, a book of 'poems'. Here's one:
You will see that Rosen has again been fortunate in his illustrator. This time it is Chris Riddell, who has put evident thought and effort into each page. But what about the words? Surely "The Button Bop" is a one-off?
No. Here is "Once":
Once upon a plom
There lived a poor little mom
Along with her children three.
There was a great big Gom
A Flom and a Chom
Who all sang, "Me, me, me".
Then the Flom said, "Ping!"
And the Chom said, "Ting!"
... and I just can't bring myself to carry on typing.
"Lunchtime", by contrast, avoids using made-up words by rhyming "lunch" with "munch" and "crunch" a few times (sample line "Munch munch") before concluding with the resounding couplet "Munchy munchy // Crunchy crunchy".
"Wiggly Wiggly" begins "Jiggle jiggle, we're all wriggly // Wriggle wriggle, we're all wiggly" and, although I'd like to report that it's a savage indictment of the Trump Administration that ends "snigger, snigger, govern bigly", in fact it ends "wiggly wiggly, giggly giggly". Riddell has provided some charming piglets for this page, but unfortunately they do not obscure the words.
This one I quite liked:
Hello nose!
Hello toes!
Hello shoes!
It's time to snooze!
Wakey-wakey,
Shakey-shakey,
Time to eat
A yummy cakey!
But that's because I made it up myself just now. Imagine reading it printed in large colourful letters accompanied by Riddellesque mammalian entities entertaining a winsome toddler with comical shoes and a baroquely-iced cake, and you will then be having a similar - but better - experience than ploughing through A Great Big Cuddle.
I saw that A Great Big Cuddle won the CLiPPA Award 2016. This fascinated me. What did it beat? What even is the CLiPPA Award? Seriously, was there any competition for the prize?
A bit of googling tells me that the CLiPPA (Centre for Literacy in Primary Poetry Award) "is the only award for published poetry for children in the UK. The CLiPPA encourages and celebrates outstanding new children’s poetry and is presented annually for a book of poetry published in the preceding year." Sounds good, doesn't it?
In fact, Rosen's book shared the prize with One, by Sarah Crossan. One is an altogether different kettle of fish: it's a sort of blank verse novel about American teenagers who are conjoined twins. It's not very UK-ish, judging by the preview on Amazon ("and Grammie's pension // doesn't even cover the cable bill", "Not everyone in the world is an asshole"), which made me wonder whether the CLiPPA's rubric should refer to "a prize for poetry for children published in the UK" rather than "published poetry for children in the UK" (and where does the "Primary" in CLiPPA fit in?). On the other hand, you've got to admire the ambition behind writing that sort of thing, and it very much sounds like the sort of book that wins prizes (do our conjoined twins form a friendship with an HIV-positive teenager? I'll leave you in suspense on that one).
It turns out that there really were other books on the shortlist, beaten by both Rosen and Crossan. One was Poetry Pie by Roger McGough. Here is the title poem. Have a quick read - it'll take you a couple of seconds and it's worth it. You'll see that it's a poem about poems, nicely done. It has mention of rap and hey nonno no, an unobtrusive little allusion to another poem that a small child might plausibly spot and be delighted by ("Ning nang nong"), and it ends, just before the final repeat of its (slightly varying) refrain, with the word "end". In short, it is a perfectly decent poem for a young child written by someone literate.
So we are forced to conclude that Rosen is even more of a National Treasure than Roger 'Lily the Pink' McGough CBE FRSL. But I am still not sure why.
