I recently revisited an old favorite from my childhood, The Shrinking of Treehorn. The plot is simple: the titular Treehorn, a young schoolboy, begins mysteriously to shrink. His family barely notices, being entirely preoccupied with their own concerns. Treehorn accepts the uncanny with the same deadpan resignation he brings to his encounters with his neglectful parents, his teacher, the school principal, the bus driver, and his occasionally hostile friend Moshie.  

I’m not exactly sure just why I find Treehorn so appealing. It could be Florence Parry Heide’s subtle humor about authority figures who are too unhelpful and self-absorbed to pay any attention to children and their problems. It could be the charming, yet slightly unsettling, Edward Gorey drawings (Victorian gloom meets 1970s fashion). Mostly, I think it is Treehorn himself, not misbehaving, or seeking attention, and utterly self-contained. He likes what he likes (television, cereal, cereal boxes and the prizes they promise, candy bars, bubblegum) and accepts both the mysterious and the mundane annoyances of life calmly and without complaint.

This offbeat little book, I was pleased to discover, has two sequels, Treehorn’s Treasure and Treehorn’s Wish. You can purchase all three of them in a hardcover box set, The Treehorn Trilogy. Read them when you’re feeling ignored, unseen, overlooked, or alienated, and buy yourself some breakfast cereal for comfort while trying to channel Treehorn’s equanimity. Sweet, a bit subversive, and only slightly cynical, they’re for readers of all ages who appreciate a little absurdity.  

There’s supposedly a film in development (but there's been no news of it lately). I’m not at all sure how this material would possibly translate to the screen, but I must say I’m intrigued.

BOOK: The Shrinking of Treehorn

AUTHOR: Florence Parry Heide

YEAR OF PUBLICATION: 1971

IMAGE: Book cover, Penguin Random House