I remember this book from my childhood, partly for its trippy story and partly because it featured scandalous nudity (we were lucky to have this book in our school libraries un-censored, as it was — and still remains — on the list of challenged or banned books purely for that glimpse of naked boy). It reads like a comic book with a mix of speech bubbles and captions, and the way Mickey floats dream-like between the fantastical “sets” is wonderful. Children accept the story with innocence, but if you enjoy finding darker meanings you might notice Sendak taking inspiration from the Holocaust that shaped his own childhood. The perfect book for non sense.

Little Blue looks and feels like an old-fashioned folk tale. Delicate ink and watercolor illustrations and a little hero called Will who wears t-bar sandals and brandishes sticks in an adventurous way. It stands out on our bookshelf, small, cloth-bound with embossed title, amongst the bigger, louder picture books. The story is really delightful, with a very clever twist, and weaves between fantasy and reality. The perfect book for the old-fashioned child.

Seasons is a beautifully playful and witty book by the French artist and illustrator, Blexbolex. His silk-screen illustrations have a retro-inspired minimalism influenced by the whodunits of the 1950s and 60s, and abound with colour and movement. The “story” is narrated with single words or phrases and flows from page to page through the seasons. Sometimes the pairing of word and picture is a statement of the obvious, sometimes it is an oblique reference to a feeling or action. It makes for an interesting read, as small inquiring minds ask with wide eyes, “But why, Mama?”. The perfect book for watching the weather.

The story of Captain Slaughterboard and his motley crew aboard The Black Tiger is a real swashbuckling yarn full of rum, tobacco, sharpened steel, bad ink and finding your inner peace… which is nice, really. Peake has created some fearsome pirates and illustrated each with such wit and detail that you can almost smell them from the pages. The pen and ink drawings are elaborate with barnacle-encrusted flourishes and are complemented well by the hand-lettered narrative that is oh so droll. The perfect book for the little pirate.

Edward Gorey was one of the most talented (and eccentric) graphic artists to emerge in post-war America, and this macabre little book is one of his finest. An A to Z of children’s names, complete with illustrations of their final moments, all narrated in rhyming dactylic couplets. The deadpan delivery gives it the feeling of a public record, and the fine cross-hatched illustrations point to the Victorian fascination with death and childhood innocence. The perfect book for anyone who ever painted their fingernails black.

A charming, heart-warming story about … death. Death in a dressing gown and slippers. And about Duck, who makes friends with this strange character, Death. The charm of the story comes from the simple pencil drawings of its awkward characters, and their honest, unhurried words. The ultimate passing of Duck is so unremarkable as to bring perspective to the business of death. A wonderful, reassuring perspective that we often lose sight of in the face of loss. “But that is life, thought Death.” The perfect book for talking about death.

This is the kind of book that your children learn off by heart, and surprise you by “reading” back to you. An encyclopaedic list of the narrator’s favourite dogs and their doggy traits, cleanly illustrated in pencil and watercolor. The simple, repetitive text quickly captures a child’s attention and the pages come alive with the bounding energy of their canine characters. The perfect book for the dog lover.

This quirky tale about an avian pre-natal coffee group has a surprise ending that will make any veteran/survivor of such groups laugh. The illustrations are softly drawn, the characters expressive and lively. Several cut pages midway through create layers of illustrations that tell the story incrementally, comic style, building a nice sense of tension for that snappy ending. The perfect book for the ugly duckling.

The bright pink cover of this book ensures it never sits on the shelf for long. The bold colours continue within, complemented by a glossy paper stock, sparing use of wood-type slab serifs, and hand-painted characters. The part I like the best: the voices that Timmers has given each member of his animal cast. Vocabulary and a unique turn-of-phrase identify each, and it doesn’t take much imagination to add an accent when you read aloud… The perfect book for the royalist.

Fans of Rosen’s book We’re going on a Bear Hunt will love this. The story is sweet, simple and slapstick—and much less wordy (phew)—but still has the lilting lyrical style that is so much fun to read aloud. Waldron’s illustrations (created by digitally manipulating hand-drawn illustrations) are strong and have a contemporary feel—I have a particular fondness for the Hippo with its pink scarred and scratched hide. The perfect book for the underdog.