When Max puts on his wolf suit and makes mischief, his mother calls him ''Wild Thing'' and sends him to bed without any supper. Alone in his room, Max enters a magical world and sets sail across the sea to the place where the wild things are. The wild things roar their terrible roars and gnash their terrible teeth and roll their terrible eyes and show their terrible claws . . .
But Max tames the wild things and is made their king.
Will he ever want to go home?
Where the Wild Things Are is one of those truly rare books that can be enjoyed equally by a child and a grown-up. If you disagree, then it's been too long since you've attended a wild rumpus. Max dons his wolf suit in pursuit of some mischief and gets sent to bed without supper. Fortuitously, a forest grows in his room, allowing his wild rampage to continue unimpaired. Sendak's color illustrations (perhaps his finest) are beautiful, and each turn of the page brings the discovery of a new wonder.
The wild things--with their mismatched parts and giant eyes--manage somehow to be scary-looking without ever really being scary; at times they're downright hilarious. Sendak's defiantly run-on sentences--one of his trademarks--lend the perfect touch of stream of consciousness to the tale, which floats between the land of dreams and a child's imagination.
This Sendak classic is more fun than you've ever had in a wolf suit, and it manages to reaffirm the notion that there's no place like home.