Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

Planting a seed of kindness

The Apple-Pip Princess
by Jane Ray
Candlewick Press

You know how the fairytale goes. There are three sons or three daughters and the aging father or wizard or king will leave all he has to the wisest one, as determined by some task or other they must complete that will prove which one deserves to rule.

The oldest is usually ambitious, the second is vain and competitive, the third has a good heart. They each set about scheming or building or vying for the king's attention, but the third prevails through some simple act of kindness or previously unsuspected wisdom.

Think King Lear but without all those messy deaths.

Ray offers her colorful take of the old tale in a naive style, which emphasizes its folkloric origins. She uses a warm palette, perhaps drawing from a Mediterranean or North African palette (judging by the dark-skinned family, though of course that's beside the point). A handful of mixed media collages are skillfully placed for maximum comic effect when the bad siblings wreak their havoc.

Three princesses each possess something of their late mother's--two choose material things, the third picks a simple box, which she fills with such charming keepsakes as a burst of nightingale song or a splash of sunlight.  And, of course, an apple pip.

When the old king's challenge comes, Ray sets the stakes high: the land's been barren since the queen's death and devoid of birdsong or laughter. Each daughter has only a week to impress their still-grieving father. You're rooting for the youngest, Serenity, especially as the wicked older sisters only find ways to make folks more miserable.

Serenity doesn't fail in her mission, or in her ability to please readers too. She's a delight to watch in action, thoughtful and kind, and her smallest, simplest act of selflessness sprouts into something much larger than expected, as all good deeds in all good folk tales do. All her enchanted items get used in the process, but each has its payoff too. At no point does Ray belabor the message, and even the mean older sisters get a pleasant reprieve. 

Rating: *\*\*\*\

I got a new camera for Mother's Day

Un-bearably persistent

A Visitor for Bear
by Bonny Becker; illustrated by Kady MacDonald Denton
Candlewick Press

Hooray for us introverts! I've long savored this essay about the horrors of enduring those in-your-face, smile-a-minute, non-stop extroverts. Let them go chat up amoeba down at the bottom of the food chain and leave us higher-functioning types to our deep, world-saving contemplations, says misanthrope moi.

Naturally, my sympathies go out to critters like Bear, with his growly countenance and "No Visitors Allowed" sign. All he wants is a spot of breakfast. All Mouse wants is to join him. Bear finds every way possible to turn him away. Mouse finds every way back in, until Bear finds all that friendliness, well, over-bear-ing and surrenders to the inevitable.

Mouse is all British-style cheek and cheeriness, but is overall quite polite, in his persistent way, while Bear is all gruff and grizzly temper. The duo is in the best tradition of Odd Couple-type pairings, and there's no question by the end that Bear will find the expected solace in having such a companionable visitor.

MacDonald Denton's watercolors place Bear in a cozy, suburban-style home with all the creature comforts--just the sort of place where a friendly Mouse might want to make himself welcome. And a few jots and lines conjure up a full range of bearish expressions, from delight to exasperation and back again.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Boys town

A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever
by Marla Frazee
Harcourt Children's Books

Two boys, James and Eamon. A cabin on the beach. A nature camp. Sounds perfect, right?

Well, of course. Especially when the cabin belongs to Eamon's indulgent grandparents, Bill and Pam, who have their own quirks and a fondness for penguins.

Frazee's narration and pictures don't line up exactly, to hilarious effect: when James shows up with a few items, we see a mountain of boxes. He's never been away before. And when the text says he's sad to see his mother go, we see him waving with enthusiasm. The narration flows along what perhaps Bill and Pam or other adults (that's probably us) might like to see, while the art shows the boys tussling or play-acting or watching TV until their eyes bug out.

They're not trouble-makers; it's all innocent, boyish fun, involving lots of make believe and sleepovers and heaps of ice cream. Oh, and penguins.

Frazee has a light touch for kids' humor, focusing on key details and mood in her art, where the two boys come to resemble each other even as Bill merges their names into Jamon. The text's in all caps, and looks handwritten in the same black pencil Frazee uses for her meticulous lines that create shadow or link illustrations or outline the boys skinny, constantly moving bodies.

The narration is also rich in detail, fleshing out its simple premise with the trivia of the boys' days, maintaining its earnest, sincere tone even as the boys make a hash of things.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Other books by Frazee reviewed here.

Nighty-night, li'l critters

Animals are Sleeping
by Susanne Slade; illustrated by Gary R. Phillips
Sylvan Dell Publishing

This short but sweet bedtime book sneaks in some lessons about animal habitats, showing polar bears, sloths, fish and other critters catching some zzzz's. Slade's simple verses aim for the preschool crowd with plenty of repetition and easy-breezy rhymes, and Phillips' lush illustrations almost glow, with touches of day-glo colors shimmering out amid the somnolent dark blues and greens.

The book's been vetted by a zoologist for accuracy, so there's no anthropomorphism or cutesy antics. The animals are shown as they would be in the wild. What I like is how it confers instant genius status on the reader, making you a hero to your kids, who have know way of knowing that you'd never seen a sloth sleeping, either.

The "For Creative Minds" exercises in the back reinforce lessons on what the pictured animals eat and where they sleep. But it's also fine for reading just before you tuck your human cub under the blankies too.

Rating: *\*\*\

Back to the drawing board ...

I didn't get the teaching position in Phoenix after all. They notified me via email, of course.

Ah well. At least I won't have to miss Seth's birthday, which fell during their summer training session.

Thanks for everyone who sent their support.

Phoenix rising

Summer hits early in Phoenix, and at 8:30 am on a cloudless April morning, the sun already glinted off cars. My mother-in-law and I sat in her white Corolla, parked tentatively in a walled and gated parking lot as if for a quick getaway. We watched for signs of life outside a low-slung, drab building near downtown, still somewhat nineties newish and post-modern, but resembling nothing so much as a concrete fortress amidst the shabby bodegas and taco stands.

We watched muscled men in scant athletic togs amble in and out of a gym. A heavyset woman tacked up signs.

I was early for a job interview. Not at the gym full of half-dressed men, sad to say. I was early and my MIL—who was graciously hosting me—kept me company as the minutes ticked by. A cab pulled up and a young woman in expensive tan slacks and white blouse, hair neatly pulled back, stepped onto the curb, briefcase in tow.

“Well, this must be it,” I said, giving MIL a peck on the cheek. I followed the signs through a courtyard into air-conditioned relief in a library with a soaring cathedral ceiling, dotted with posters of Frida Kahlo and the occasional map. Over the next half hour, another 20 or so would file in, including taxicab woman, who’d turn out to be an entertaining and coolly poised math teacher.

I sat at a table with a former computer science teacher named John, a gregarious Italian from Long Island who talked in food metaphors, and no fewer than three other people from the Chicago area, one of them a shy, soft-spoken Loyola student with glittering brown eyes who hoped to move here with her new fiancee.

I’d applied to roughly 35 jobs since deciding a couple months ago that full-time motherhood had sapped what microscopic self-esteem I’d ever possessed. I love my children, but post-partum depression had long ago slid directly into mid-life crisis, abetted by cross-country moves, my mother’s prolonged death, and a depressing list of other personal and financial misfortunes.

Not on the Test

This Tom Chapin song goes out to all my readers who are teachers, or who know teachers. Good luck on your NCLB testing, btw ...

Listen Up! Don't Miss This One

Listen, Listen
by Phillis Gershator; illustrated by Alison Jay
Barefoot Books

reviewed by Kelly Herold

Celebrate the seasons in style with Listen, Listen. This charmer of a picture book aimed at the two- to six-year-old reader makes you appreciate every quarter of the year, even depressing ol' winter. Listen, Listen has that one-two punch--a combination of snappy, lively text and intricate, nostalgic illustrations that will please the adult and the child reader.

Gershator's rhyming text is, simply, perfect. It scans and it sings as you travel through the year.  Here, for example, are the first four lines of the text:

Listen, listen...what's that sound? Insects singing all around!
Chirp, chrip, churr, churr, buzz, buzz, whirr, whirr.
Leaves rustle, hammocks sway. Splish, splash, children play.
Clouds drift, dogs run. Sizzle, sizzle, summer fun.

Go ahead.  Read it aloud.  I know you want to.

Alison Jay's detailed illustrations have an old-fashioned feel to them. They are presented as cracked oil paintings and feature old-fashioned school houses and animals like those you'd see in the work of Margaret Wise Brown.  Jay's color scheme is rich and warm--with dark reds and light blues and greens of every shade. The pages are so inviting, you want to fall into them and live in this peaceful world of seasonal activity and sound.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Hum a happy Toon

Silly Lilly and the Four Seasons
by Agnes Rosenstiehl
TOON Books

TOON Books ran out of copies of their three debut titles before they even hit the shelves the other week. I got an email press release (as I suspect a lot of bloggers did, but I'm too lazy to check Technorati) with a fun quote from the publishers:

“We were in the middle of preparing for our launch,” says Editorial Director Françoise Mouly, also the Art Editor of The New Yorker, “but I couldn’t imagine a more welcome distraction.”

Here, here.

I plan to review all three titles, but picked Silly Lilly as my immediate favorite for its understated simplicity and total girl appeal. Like all graphic novels, the story is told in comic format, though the gap between picture book and graphic novel has all but disappeared. About the only way I didn't know this was, in fact, a picture book is that there's no narration, no text imposed over the art except in Lilly's speech bubbles.

The book breaks into five short vignettes, one for each season plus a bonus Spring. In each, Lilly sets herself a simple task, such as going to the park or the beach or picking apples. And that's it--though every story has its twist at the end, when a sea shell has a tiny inhabitant or a snowball goes astray.

It's all Lilly, and she's all glee and giggles, a pen-and-ink Everygirl who can turn any day into a pleasant adventure.

I'm all for it.

Rating: *\*\*\*\