IN THE NIGHT KITCHEN

This is Maurice Sendak's comic strip apotheosis of the Thirties/ dusky dream of sensual bliss/ bim bam boom bombshell of a child-echoing picture book. Sometimes Mickey's toss and turn from bed into the night kitchen and back keeps in time to internal rhyme, or sets up a rhythmic chant or a remembrance of things heard, or makes sport with words; while what's doing in the kitchen is the concoction of a cake by three Oliver Hardy cooks who take Mickey for milk until "right in the middle of the steaming and the making and the smelling and the baking Mickey poked through and said I'M NOT THE MILK AND THE MILK'S NOT ME! I'M MICKEY!" But wait: in his bread dough plane with his milk-pitcher helmet, Mickey flies up and up and up "and over the top of the Milky Way," then dives down into the bottle "singing 'I'm in the milk and the milk's in me. God Bless Milk and God Bless Me!'" God bless naked and naturally exposed, Mickey is pure joy. . . or as the cooks chorus "MILK IN THE BATTER! MILK IN THE BATTER! WE BAKE CAKE! AND NOTHING'S THE MATTER!" (Can it go without saying that the pictures are superb.)