Yaaaawn. This was soooo hard to read. Eight-inch Nicholas is traveling around NYC meeting storybook/mythical people, seeing the sites, and attending parties from Christmas time through Valentine’s (don’t forget George Washington’s birthday, either!). However the narration was done, I could not get involved. I could not care about Nicholas’s travels, even though I think the base idea is decent. (It could be like telling kids who don’t get to travel much about the wonders of New York through the aid fairytale characters, right? That’s just not what I got.) It felt like the boring things were narrated. The boring dialogue was used. I didn’t get any kind of info or charm or storyline out of it, and I really wanted to. ( )

One of two Newbery Honor books selected in 1925 - along with Anne and Dillwn Parish's The Dream Coach - this holiday fantasy was penned by one of the most influential children's librarians of the early twentieth century, giving it added appeal to those with an interest in the history of children's literature. Despite that fact, and its status as a Newbery title, I found Nicholas: A Manhattan Christmas Story an oddly off-putting little book, and probably would have awarded it only one star, were it not for the enjoyment I derived from spotting the many children's literature references inserted by the author.

The story of a little Dutch boy named Nicholas - eight inches high, and apparently based upon a wooden doll of the same name, that Moore used in her storytelling sessions - who appears at the Children's Room of the New York Public Library one Christmas Eve night, and is immediately swept up in a series of magical holiday observances, this had a distinctly dated feel to it. It isn't just that the New York City depicted by Moore is long gone - some of the streets and landmarks are the same, but others are long-since vanished - although that's part of it, but also that the author references (then) current events in a rather oblique way, assuming her readers will understand what she is talking about. The then recent war (WWI), and its aftermath in Europe, are clearly meant to be a very meaningful backdrop to Nicholas' visit, and perhaps to the reader of the day they were, but the contemporary child would need a little background - she wouldn't just automatically understand the emotional significance of Nicholas' helmet (that of a French "poilu"), or the seemingly stray references to the children of France or the Netherlands.

In much the same way, it is soon apparent that the author expects her readers to recognize (and sympathize with) her characters, despite popping them into the narrative almost at random, without taking the trouble to really introduce them. In an amusing example of what we would today describe as a "Mary Sue," the character of Ann Caraway is meant to be Anne Carroll Moore herself - making the praises heaped upon her in the narrative especially noteworthy - but we never really get a sense of who she is, or how she fits into the story. Why is she so closely associated with everyone else that Nicholas encounters? This sense of randomness extends to the events of the story as well, as Exciting! and Magical! occurrences pile up, one upon the other, almost like a laundrey list of happenings. There is no time to really appreciate or feel the "magic" with which the reader is constantly inundated.

Despite these flaws - and they are not inconsiderable - there were things I enjoyed about Nicholas: A Manhattan Christmas Story - from the many references to the world of children's literature, both classic and (then) contemporary, to the evident admiration the author expresses, through her characters, for figures such as Washington Irving and George Washington. The children's literature references begin almost at once, with the Brownie's description of the guest-list for her party, and continue throughout. Alice (of Wonderland fame), Pinocchio, Hansel and Grethel, and Sindbad are just some of the classic character mentioned, while authors such as Kate Douglas Wiggin and Charles Dickens also appear. Far more interesting, however, are the references to the then contemporary world of children's books, from a throwaway line concerning Hugh Lofting's "pushmi-pullyus," to a mention of "Perez the mouse!" My first thought, when I saw the latter, was of Pura Belpré's Perez and Martina, but that wasn't published until 1932, so Moore must be thinking of Luis Coloma's 1914 work.

Picking these references out was quite fun, making what would have otherwise been a somewhat tedious narrative far more enjoyable. The other source of pleasure, already mentioned, is the evident admiration felt for the figures of Washington Irving - whose New York tales, and the characters thereto, are everywhere to be seen in the story - and George Washington. The latter, in particular, is hero-worshiped by all, and while I can't say I'm much for hero-worship of any kind, there was something appealing about the innocence of it all. As another reviewer has noted, you don't see that in very many children's books today.

In sum: while this isn't one I would recommend to the casual reader, I think that scholars with an interest in the history of children's literature and librarianship will get a lot out of it, and I recommend it to them. An odd mix... I'm almost tempted to read the sequel, Nicholas and the Golden Goose... ( )