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Enter, if you dare, the Monster Museum, whose halls are crowded with the likes of Count Dracula, Bigfoot, poltergeists, Medusa, mummies, zombies, werewolves, and The Blob. Nine gawking children, dressed in itchy-looking green tweed school uniforms, are led through the spider-strewn museum by a sinister, leering docent, who introduces each ghastly monster in verse: Alas, King Kong, he se... More

Enter, if you dare, the Monster Museum, whose halls are crowded with the likes of Count Dracula, Bigfoot, poltergeists, Medusa, mummies, zombies, werewolves, and The Blob. Nine gawking children, dressed in itchy-looking green tweed school uniforms, are led through the spider-strewn museum by a sinister, leering docent, who introduces each ghastly monster in verse: Alas, King Kong, he sealed his fate
When he climbed up the Empire State
Oh, why'd he try this great escape?
'Cause they called him a monkey
And he was an ape!
While Marilyn Singer's rhymes are often forced, the humor and subtle edification compensates. (One myth debunked: Frankenstein is the name of the scientist, not the creature himself, who whines "No wonder I'm cranky-- / Stop calling me Frankie! / Won't somebody give me a name!"). Gris Grimly's weird illustrations are appropriately creepy--even the regular human beings (who systematically disappear throughout the tour) sport some grotesque body parts, including giant, gnarled hands. (Ages 4 to 7) --Emilie Coulter

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