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We have several books from the Dr. Seuss Nursery Collection and our little boy loves them all. He goes crazy for the hand puppet and if he could rate, he'd give this book 10 stars. The book is short and not as entertaining for me as some of the other books in this collection.

This one is also probably more of a 6- to 7-year old story but I’ll freely admit that I loved the movie!

I revisited this when it came up in context of cosmic horror, just to see if that framing would change my reading of a staple from my childhood. It doesn't, really; in fact, nothing penetrates. This is so familiar, but not in a personal or resonant way; so while I see what it's doing rather more blandly now, I don't see it with insight or depth. It's just ... there.

Except! The part I remembered best was the fluffy clover and the nightmarish but also fluffy field of a thousand million clovers, and that's still the only part I care about. The soft peachy-pink color, the improbable texture, that endless aesthetic-but-also-nightmare-fuel field in particular is 1) the real cosmic horror and 2) a permanent part of my internal landscape, apparently. The bits of books we latch on to as kids are weird and fascinating.