The other week, Fiona was complaining about Dr. Seuss -- not that Seuss-ish books aren't dandies, but she's tired of them. Plus the neutered nudity, and the inexplicable feet, the limited real vocabulary and the vast fake vocabulary, and so on. "More better words!" was roughly the war cry that led her to Bill Peet and William Steig.
I suggested at the time that she pick up Lynley Dodd, but I have a better idea yet, the best of all possible ideas: Tove Jansson, whose stories about Moomin sustained me for years when I was a lad but whose online presence is shockingly faint.
Any more high-end suggestions out there?