Beyond concerns with  where the Wild Things Are

Maurice Sendak 80th year - which ended with his birthday at the beginning of  been and will be celebrated on Monday evening with a performance at the 92nd Street Y - was difficult. He was seized by grief since the death of his longtime partner, a recent triple bypass has temporarily left too weak to work or take long walks with his dog, and he is plagued Norman Rockwell.

Or to be more precise, it is plagued by the question that has repeatedly been asked about Norman Rockwell: was he a great artist or  mere illustrator?

Mere illustrator, \he said, repeating the phrase with contempt. This n  is not that Mr. Sendak, who illustrated over 100 books, including many he wrote, is angry that people question Rockwell's talent, but rather, he fears that  there  has not exceeded the  mere illustrator  label itself.

Never forget that  Mr. Sendak originality and emotional honesty have changed the shape of children's literature, his work is featured in museums, that  he designed costumes and decorations for operas, ballets and theater, that  he earned a chest full of awards and prizes including the National Medal of the Arts. As the playwright Tony Kushner, one of his collaborators, said:  It is  one of the largest, if not the most important writers and artists, always working in children's literature. In fact, he is a writer and an important artist in literature. Period.

Mr. Sendak protested, \But Tony is my friend.

Mr. Sendak, a square-shaped gnome, was sitting in the dining room of his Connecticut retreat. The shoulders are a bit stooped, but his fingers are long and delicate. When he hears that the 92nd Street Y event is sold out, his eyebrows rising surprise.

They must be coming to see other people, he said, referring to guests like Mr. Kushner, Meryl Streep, James Gandolfini, Spike Jonze, Dave Eggers and Catherine Keener.

Even his heart attack does not seem up to it. People are not impressed with a triple bypass, he lamented, now there must be a quadruple:  You feel like such a failure.

That Mr. Sendak fears that his work is insufficient, that  he is prey to  insecurity and  anxiety, n  is not a surprise. For over 50 years has been the hallmark of his art. L  extermination of most members of his family and millions  other Jews by the Nazis; s  intrusive, unemployed immigrants who survived and crowded his apartment small parents, his sickly childhood; dark moods of his mother, his own ever-present depression - all can feel below the surface of his work, often breaking into carefully drawn, fantastical ways.

N It  is not, as authors of books for children are often assumed, a grandfather of each man. His hatreds are fierce and grand, that s  it is produced by Cecil B. DeMille. He hates his uncle (who made a cruel comment to him when he was a boy), he hates anything to do with God or religion, and Judaism in particular ( We were the \chosen people\, chosen to being killed? ), he hates Salman Rushdie (for writing an excoriating review of  one of his books), he hates syrupy animation, which is why it is very happy with the upcoming film Mr. Jonze of his book  Where the Wild Things Are , despite rumors of studio discontent.

I hate people, \he said at one point, extolling the  company top dogs, like his German shepherd soft character, Herman (after Melville).

It is basically a grumpy, but a delicious, with a wide range of knowledge, a sense of  humor and a talent for storytelling and mimicry.

When Mr. Sendak received the 1996 National Medal of Arts, President Bill Clinton said on  one of his own childhood fantasies that involved wearing a long coat with brass buttons when he grew up.

But Mr. President, you are only going to  be president for another year, , Mr. Sendak said, , you still have time  be a porter.

Mr. Sendak insisted that  he was trying to ingratiate himself, not funny.

Against all probability, some of the nightmares that n  have ceased to pursue since  childhood - like  Lindbergh baby kidnapping of 1932 - were put to rest. A couple of weeks ago a dealer found the  a tiny reproductions of  wide kidnapper who were sold as souvenirs at the trial in New Jersey.

J  have been impressed  said Mr. Sendak. He traded one of his drawings for him.  That ends my obsession with  case, \he said.

His fascination for  kidnapping, like many  other details of his life, has been repeated endlessly over the years hundreds of  interviews that  it has given. Is there something that  there  had never been asked? He s  stopped a moment and replied: \Well, I'm gay.

I did not think it  was a business person,\ Mr. Sendak added. He lived with Eugene Glynn, a psychoanalyst, for 50 years before Dr. Glynn's death in May 2007. N It  has never told his parents: \All I wanted, it  was to  be straight so my parents could be happy. They don  have never, ever, ever known.

Protecting children against their parents, Mr. Sendak said. It was like the time he had a heart attack at 39. His mother was dying of  cancer at  hospital, and he decided to keep the news to himself, something that  he now regrets.

A gay artist in New York n  is not exactly uncommon, but Mr. Sendak said that  idea  a gay man writing children books would have hurt her career when he was in his 20s and 30s.

His latest book is that it  he started four years ago, right after Dr. Glynn became sick with  lung cancer. Disease and the establishment of the clock care in their homes were simply  so incredible , \he said. Mr. Sendak is mostly finished with it, but he admitted that for the first time,  I feel extremely vulnerable.

He is afraid - not of death, which is as familiar to him as a child teddy bear - but not being able to complete his work: \I feel like I don  not have much time.

After Dr. Glynn's death, Mr. Sendak said that  he was \still trying to figure out what I'm doing here.

I wanted to take his place, he said.  Her death became a demarcation line.  He added that  he had lost contact with several of his friends, unable to return calls and answer e-mail.

Mr. Sendak is pleased with the feast of  birthday to come, as it is his awards and honors, but in the end, he maintained, they don  add little. They  n  have never penetrated, \he said. \They were like rubber bullets.

This n  is not that  there  is not grateful. \They m  have made him happy, but at some point in your life, you see through them,\ he said.  You don  have not s  in fun, you do not hate them, you feel sorry for them \- tiny, inert emblems that just are not the task of responding to pressing questions about meaning, affecting the size  soul and sustainability.

So he spends his days meditating his heroes: Mozart, Keats, Blake, Melville and Dickinson. He s  admire and aspire to their \ability to be private, the ability  be alone, the ability to follow spiritual paths n  is not written by n  anyone.

Mr. Sendak is quick to insist that the distance between large stands his own accomplishments and theirs.  I'm not one of those people, \he said.  I can not pretend  be.

Yet he feels that , I'll do something again that is purely for me but for someone  to create a  future that passion that Blake and Keats did in me.

What  he overlooked, however, it  is that  he may already have.