A dot-eyed pig in red tartan Bermuda shorts and suspenders is our guide through the surreal world of Down at the Sea Hotel, a song by Greg Brown that has morphed into a picture book illustrated by Mireille Levert. The soothing, gently funny lyrics of Brown’s lullaby (“The tuna is tired/The seahorse is sleepy/The hammerheads’s not feeling well/The catfish is yawning/It’s lights-out time/Down at the Sea Hotel”) suggest some submarine bedtime world, but Levert rejects the obvious and creates a dream world for the natty pig in which he flies through the night attached to a kite, or on a pelican’s back, and observes the sea creatures with their rowboats, paper boats, and surfboards. Dream logic prevails as an ice-cream stand appears on the beach and fish-shaped stars twinkle.

An accompanying CD meant to encourage sleep features Brown’s memorable melody, which encourages a slow waltz around a darkened room. The CD is rounded out by 13 additional lullabies, written by a variety of singer/songwriters including Tom Waits, Nanci Griffith, and Bruce Cockburn, and performed by various singers including the Wailin’ Jennys.

Taken as a whole, this collection paints a remarkable portrait of parental anxiety. Lullabies have always included worry (“when the bough breaks”), but these songs reveal a generation of parents who don’t think they are up to the task. Reassurance after desperate reassurance – “I will be here for you,” “You’ll always be part of me,” “Just remember I’ll be there,” “You can always count on me” – parallel the current explosion of picture books with the “Mommy/Daddy loves you” theme. Several writers come right out and admit their fears – “I may not be there to catch you,” sings Guy Davis. Jessie Winchester’s words typify the reluctant acceptance of parental responsibility – “I am a father now/I can’t get out of that.”

This anxious navel-gazing is all very well for the adults involved, but for memorable, singable melodies and lyrics, and for actually putting the baby to sleep, I’d go for Connie’s Kaldor’s Lullaby Berceuse: A Warm Prairie Night, or, indeed, the fishy sleepiness of this book’s title song, “Down at the Sea Hotel.”