maireador20's review against another edition
3.0
Classic bedtime story for young children with a soothing rhyming text and attractive illustrations. An excellent addition to a bedtime routine for readers aged 1+
dfaulk27's review against another edition
5.0
All time classic and favorite β€οΈjust read it to my newborn
khjb's review against another edition
4.0
This book is a little mind-numbing, but Adeline *loves* it. The repetition is pretty soothing, which makes it an ideal bedtime book. Though it does bug me that there is no comma after any of the "goodnight"s. It is direct address, no? "Goodnight, room. Goodnight, moon." This bugs me every time. But the baby doesn't seem to notice, for some reason.
5elementknitr's review against another edition
5.0
An all-time favorite! I love this as much as I did as a child, and as much as I did reading it to my own children.
kxtekss's review against another edition
I actually had Anderson Cooper read Goodnight 2022 to me on CNN NYE ππππππππ
flowsthead's review against another edition
The nihilist reading, while certainly strong, is not my preferred reading of the book. Rather, I think it is about the journey from the patriarchal, monotheistic God of the Hebrews, the Christians, and the Muslims as he supersedes the matriarchal, ancient Mother Nature of the gods of the past, and eventually prefiguring our secular future.
The book begins with a description of the "great green room" which we can take to assume is our green Earth. At this point in history we have communication (the telephone), freedom of pleasure and leisure (red balloon), and art (the picture). And our art is ambitious like we are, picturing the domesticated cow taking flight over one of the bodies of the heavens, and the wild bears incongruously sitting on chairs. We work with irony and blasphemy, and we collect contradictions like a house being able to encompass cats and mice. We have more food than we know what to do with, represented by the bowl full of mush that no one will consume and will be thrown away. And we can keep ourselves clean with combs and brushes, an outward appearance of civilization.
Yet at this point we are still seemingly subservient to Mother Nature (the quiet old lady whispering hush). She sits before us working on an unknowable piece of clothing, letting her beasts play with it. What is she making? Who is it for? It is not for us to know, and she bids us be quiet and let her work. But man is ambitious, as is our God who does not remain quiet and instead wishes to say goodnight to all that he has conquered/accomplished. As each piece of the room is bid goodnight, it is an acknowledgement of the great work done, and a realization that they are but stepping stones on the path. Out list now includes the clock, as our mastery of time and the calendar orders the world, and socks to show our ability to survive in any climate and in any geography with the proper tools. We have created houses inside houses, as God's consciousness turns fractal, reflecting itself infinitely down the line.
But the light of the lamp gets darker and darker, and as God says "Goodnight nobody" we are reminded that of the duality of the universe, of the way we define everything by opposites. For all of our achievements, we have to remember the negatives. For all of the food we have to waste, there is all the hunger. For all of the clothes, all of cold and sick. Our domestication of the cow and the cat has lead to the extinctions of countless species. "Goodnight nobody" is a cry to all of those lost, even if briefly. God says goodnight to the old lady, knowing that Mother Nature is on her way out. She is no longer stitching, and she will soon leave the page, to have her seat taken by the beasts she was playing with before. Mother Nature the mystical, is now just biology and evolution. We seek the stars and the noiseless void of space next.
Still, although I was using "we" throughout, I really meant the patriarchal we that took over from the matriarchal one. But that isn't the end of the story. Most of the book is set in opposition between the old lady bidding hush, and the young rabbit refusing to. Where is man in all this? Man is the mouse, visible in every colored page of the room, portraying our future where we do not define ourselves in opposition. We see the mouse on the first page in the background next to firewood, small and pathetic. Next we see it behind the two kittens playing, as if in a terrible precipice ready to be swallowed up by unfeeling beast. Although on the ground before, the mouse next sits up, in the light of the lamp as most of the room is in shadow, watching the kittens playing, destroying; studying them and preparing for the future. The mouse climbs on the mitten stack and looks at the cow jumping over the moon, inspired with dreams to fly, to be bigger, to be creative. The kittens fall asleep and the mouse is behind Mother Nature, on top of the bookshelf that represents knowledge. We, humanity, have been given the means to explore the knowledge of the world and beyond, in math and physics, in biology, in all of the sciences and all of the art.
God bids us (the mouse) goodnight, and next we see it in front of the fire. Fire is a symbol of progress, and a symbol of destruction. What will we lay ruin to in our conquest to conquer the unknowable and unreachable? What havoc will we let loose to quench our desires for more? We take up against God by going to his mush, the mouse looking in and seeing the multitudes it can control when God is asleep and out of the picture. Do we want the room and his food? Do we want to take over after this war between God and Mother Nature is over? No. Our ambitions are greater, our curiosity far beyond. The mouse is last seen on the windowsill, looking up at the stars and moon, as we dream bigger than ever before. We will go out into the black, void, into that soundless desert like the pioneers of the old west, and we will expand like never before. God and Mother Nature both tried to have dominion over the Earth, but dominion is not for us. Though we are awake in their kingdom while they are absent and free to have our way with their belongings, our true purpose cannot be encapsulated by this small planet, but this "great" green room. It is not great enough for our dreams. It will never be great enough for us.
The book begins with a description of the "great green room" which we can take to assume is our green Earth. At this point in history we have communication (the telephone), freedom of pleasure and leisure (red balloon), and art (the picture). And our art is ambitious like we are, picturing the domesticated cow taking flight over one of the bodies of the heavens, and the wild bears incongruously sitting on chairs. We work with irony and blasphemy, and we collect contradictions like a house being able to encompass cats and mice. We have more food than we know what to do with, represented by the bowl full of mush that no one will consume and will be thrown away. And we can keep ourselves clean with combs and brushes, an outward appearance of civilization.
Yet at this point we are still seemingly subservient to Mother Nature (the quiet old lady whispering hush). She sits before us working on an unknowable piece of clothing, letting her beasts play with it. What is she making? Who is it for? It is not for us to know, and she bids us be quiet and let her work. But man is ambitious, as is our God who does not remain quiet and instead wishes to say goodnight to all that he has conquered/accomplished. As each piece of the room is bid goodnight, it is an acknowledgement of the great work done, and a realization that they are but stepping stones on the path. Out list now includes the clock, as our mastery of time and the calendar orders the world, and socks to show our ability to survive in any climate and in any geography with the proper tools. We have created houses inside houses, as God's consciousness turns fractal, reflecting itself infinitely down the line.
But the light of the lamp gets darker and darker, and as God says "Goodnight nobody" we are reminded that of the duality of the universe, of the way we define everything by opposites. For all of our achievements, we have to remember the negatives. For all of the food we have to waste, there is all the hunger. For all of the clothes, all of cold and sick. Our domestication of the cow and the cat has lead to the extinctions of countless species. "Goodnight nobody" is a cry to all of those lost, even if briefly. God says goodnight to the old lady, knowing that Mother Nature is on her way out. She is no longer stitching, and she will soon leave the page, to have her seat taken by the beasts she was playing with before. Mother Nature the mystical, is now just biology and evolution. We seek the stars and the noiseless void of space next.
Still, although I was using "we" throughout, I really meant the patriarchal we that took over from the matriarchal one. But that isn't the end of the story. Most of the book is set in opposition between the old lady bidding hush, and the young rabbit refusing to. Where is man in all this? Man is the mouse, visible in every colored page of the room, portraying our future where we do not define ourselves in opposition. We see the mouse on the first page in the background next to firewood, small and pathetic. Next we see it behind the two kittens playing, as if in a terrible precipice ready to be swallowed up by unfeeling beast. Although on the ground before, the mouse next sits up, in the light of the lamp as most of the room is in shadow, watching the kittens playing, destroying; studying them and preparing for the future. The mouse climbs on the mitten stack and looks at the cow jumping over the moon, inspired with dreams to fly, to be bigger, to be creative. The kittens fall asleep and the mouse is behind Mother Nature, on top of the bookshelf that represents knowledge. We, humanity, have been given the means to explore the knowledge of the world and beyond, in math and physics, in biology, in all of the sciences and all of the art.
God bids us (the mouse) goodnight, and next we see it in front of the fire. Fire is a symbol of progress, and a symbol of destruction. What will we lay ruin to in our conquest to conquer the unknowable and unreachable? What havoc will we let loose to quench our desires for more? We take up against God by going to his mush, the mouse looking in and seeing the multitudes it can control when God is asleep and out of the picture. Do we want the room and his food? Do we want to take over after this war between God and Mother Nature is over? No. Our ambitions are greater, our curiosity far beyond. The mouse is last seen on the windowsill, looking up at the stars and moon, as we dream bigger than ever before. We will go out into the black, void, into that soundless desert like the pioneers of the old west, and we will expand like never before. God and Mother Nature both tried to have dominion over the Earth, but dominion is not for us. Though we are awake in their kingdom while they are absent and free to have our way with their belongings, our true purpose cannot be encapsulated by this small planet, but this "great" green room. It is not great enough for our dreams. It will never be great enough for us.
calvinanicole's review against another edition
4.0
Good bed time story. The childish part of me likes this book and so does my 6 year old.
andiesmith's review against another edition
5.0
my fav book as a small child...my dad read it to me every night..so many nights he still has it memorized 28 years later!