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March 03, 2008

Bee-yoo-ti-ful, dahling!

Minji's Salon
by Eun-hee Choung
Kane/Miller Book Publishers

I'm giving so many buds lately, I could be a florist. But I can't resist stories that celebrate girlhood with truly feminine flair. I think publishers are finally turning the page, so to speak, on the mini-amazons and boys-with-pigtails that passed as girl protagonists for so long. You don't need to climb trees or skin your knees for a great adventure, as Choung shows us in this charming peek at a girly girl's fantasy beauty parlor.

We first meet Minji peering into the salon. The story then alternates between the salon and Minji's home, where she's set up shop with watercolors instead of dyes and crayons for rollers--with the family dog as her customer. On the left-hand page is a woman getting her hair styled, on the right is Minji's colorful and messy mimicry. 

Dressing up is a rite of passage for girls--witness the Fancy Nancy phenomenon--and Choung's playful take should win the heart of the little one marauding your closet. Choung, a South Korean, has a decidedly Eastern style to her art, with flat figures on a white background. The subdued hues get interrupted by wild splotches of color, especially where Minji's our focus--underscoring how much of a whirlwind she must be.

Rating: *\*\*\

January 17, 2008

Spinning legends

The Silk Princess
by Charles Santore

Random House

Reviewed by Kelly Herold

Charles Santore takes an ancient Chinese legend about the discovery of silk from silkworms and turns it into a story of magic and adventure for the school-aged child.  Indeed, The Silk Princess is a picture book best suited for children who already enjoy The Magic Treehouse or The Spiderwick Chronicles.  It's a picture book for children
entranced by wonder of myth and enchantment.

Princess Hsi-Ling Chi is the lone and ignored daughter of The Emperor Huang-Ti.  Even though Hsi-Ling is an obedient and well-behaved child, she can never live up to her brothers in her father's eyes.

One day, Hsi-Ling is enjoying her tea in the royal gardens when a cocoon falls in to her tea.  The cocoon begins to unravel in the hot tea and Hsi-Ling tells her mother, "'I will tie this end of the thread around my waist, and you, Mother, will hold the cocoon.  I shall walk away from you, and we shall see how long this fine thread is.  I will go to the end of the gardens, should the thread reach that far.'"  The thread--not only a silk thread perfect for weaving, but also a symbol for one's first steps away from home--reaches much further from the garden.  Hsi-Ling walks as far as the Palace, the Holy
Mountains, and a bridge, under which a fearsome dragon lives.  When Hsi-Ling crosses the bridge and defeats the dragon, she meets an old man who teaches her the secret of silk thread and promises to accompany her home. 

Santore uses the language of myth and legend in The Silk Princess, never simplifying for the sake of genre. Moreover his palate is sophisticated--full of browns, oranges, reds, and dark greens--perfect for readers beginning to learn more about art.  What is most striking about the visual aspect of The Silk Princess is how Santore highlights Princess Hsi-Ling's face.  While all the characters are painted in a realistic style with
only slight exaggerations, Hsi-Ling's face is mobile and infused with light.  In every illustration, she is the focus as light and shadow play upon her beautiful, expressive face.

The Silk Princess is highly recommended for readers ages six to ten.  Don't be afraid to give it to older children as well--children who may be studying legend or China in the fifth and sixth grades.

Rating: *\*\*\

November 28, 2007

When some bunny loves you

Rabbit's Gift: A Fable from China
by George Shannon; illustrated by Laura Dronzek

Harcourt, Inc.

The rabbit in this story starts out with an extra turnip, and winds up with a lot of friends. He passes along the extra turnip to Donkey, who he imagines is lonely. Donkey--not knowing it came from Rabbit--passes the surprise treat along to another animal friend he thinks might need it more. And so on, until it comes full circle.

An end note states that variations of the story have turned up in places as different as Germany and Jordan, and likely exist "among and beyond these cultures."

The understated acrylics cover a lot of ground emotionally, from the animals' kindly nature to the frosty landscape. You can almost feel a chill in the air (though maybe I have the heat turned too low) in Dronzek's expressionistic blending of blues, grays and whites. A dab of yellow in rabbit's white fur tells us something about his disposition--a ray of warmth in the harsh winter.

Rating: *\*\*\

November 20, 2007

Two books about bravery from China

Red Butterfly: How a Princess Smuggled the Secret of Silk Out of China
by Deborah Noyes; illustrated by Sophie Blackall
Candlewick Press

Rating: *\*\*\


Little Eagle
by Chen Jiang Hong
Enchanted Lion Books

Rating: *\*\*\

Reviewed by Ilene Goldman

Inspired by Chinese legends of bravery, persistence, and compassion, these books seem almost made to pair with each other. Red Butterfly is about a princess who smuggles the secret of silk out of China. Little Eagle tells of a little boy who learns martial arts from his guardian and protects the secrets of Kung Fu. 

In each, the protagonists are growing into adulthood without the loved ones who raised them. Beyond beautiful illustrations and lovely language, these books offer Chinese characters, non-Western viewpoints, and a glimpse at a world we might not otherwise explore.   

Noyes spins Red Butterfly from the perspective of a young girl about to be sent from the home and family she loves dearly. Though the princess is a young girl, “still a child with [her] hair / yet cut across [her] forehead,” she knows that she may never see her family again. As her marriage to the king of Khotan draws near, she recognizes the splendors of her father’s kingdom and mourns their loss. As she says “Good-bye, small silkworm. /  Good-bye red butterfly,”  she knows that she “would give every silver hairpin, every jade carving and gold ornament / for one brush of southern mist, / one windy, silken promise– / that home be with [me] always.”

Ultimately, the princess’s longing causes her to risk grave punishment by having her maidservant weave the cocoons and seeds into her ornate hairdo for the journey to Khotan. We learn in the author’s note that her new kingdom protected her by guarding silk production as jealously as China did. While most children might not be able to empathize with the princess’s courage and risk-taking, they certainly understand the difficulty of leaving a beloved home and family, even for a brief time.

Like the silk and kingdom they portray, Blackall’s illustrations for Red Butterfly are luxuriously splendid.  Many of the garments are decorated like butterflies, paying homage to the creatures that provided the beauty and wealth of this culture. The kingdom is filled with joyous colors, light, and quiet. The princess’s face is darling, sweet and strong at the same time.  We can see she is a little girl and our compassion for her dilemma swells. When she makes her perilous decision, we see also her determination, disobedience, and will.  She’s a survivor.

Little Eagle is a young boy who is rescued by Master Yang, a legendary wise man in 15th Century China.  Master Yang learns that the boy’s parents were brutally murdered by General Zhao and he welcomes the boy into his home, becoming his guardian. One night the boy awakes and spies Master Yang practicing Eagle boxing, a specialized form of Kung Fu.  In the shadows, the boy diligently copies the Master’s movements. When he displays his strength and knowledge in a street fight, Master Yang is angry but proud.  He takes the boy on as his disciple, finally giving him a name, “Little Eagle.”

Throughout the rest of the story, the disciple learns from the master and, as these tales usually go, eventually exceeds his master’s strength and skill.

Years later, Master Yang and Little Eagle must use their Eagle boxing to defend themselves, and their extraordinary knowledge of Kung Fu, from the same General Zhao who murdered the boy’s parents. Though they win, Master Yang is mortally wounded.

Little Eagle combines a lovingly told story with paintings that fill the page with color and movement. Set in the era of a brutal leader, the images are darkly hopeful. The illustrations convey the heaviness of the historical moment with a shadowy autumnal palette; they also sing the optimism inherent in the relationship between the boy and the master through their elegant lines. As the boy learns his lesson, a two-page spread shows how “he worked very hard through the passing seasons. / Until he forgot fatigue / Until he overcame pain. / Until he no longer felt the weight of his body.”  The boy is shown balancing on pylons using only his heels as he does the splits, on one foot as he carries weights, on one elbow and the opposite foot, and on his head.

Little Eagle is left alone in the world, but he takes with him faith, wisdom, and strength. Master Yang has told him to use the secrets of Kung Fu only for good. We can imagine that he follows this last order because despite living in a dark time, he has been raised with respect and love.

Many children’s stories show perseverance in the face of disaster or the loss of one or both parents; I suppose nearly every fairy tale begins that way. Red Butterfly and Little Eagle (originally published in French as Petit Aigle) play on the universality of these themes by giving us Chinese folklore and art. The authors’ notes in each book provide background to begin a conversation or perhaps a family research project.

Other Book Buds reviews about Chen Jiang Hong.

October 15, 2007

Adoption and the ties that bind

The Red Thread
by Grace Lin

Albert Whitman & Company

For those who don't follow blogs much, Grace Lin is the darling of the kidlitosphere, with a reputation for being one of the kindest people in a field already chock-a-block with gentle souls. Really, what mean person ever wrote for little kids?

Lin often draws on her own life as a Taiwanese-American, offering glimpses into the struggle to straddle two cultures, and she always manages a certain, well, grace to her spare prose and illustrations.

She recently lost her husband to cancer, and many bloggers -- myself included -- are taking up a fundraising cause in his memory. I say this in the interest of full disclosure, though Grace and I aren't personally acquainted.

Throat-clearing aside, this is a more melancholy story of longing and sacrifice than I might've expected, so prepare your heartstrings for some gentle tugging before a well-earned Happily Ever After. The story takes its name from a Chinese legend that a red thread binds all those who are destined to be together.

When a medieval king and queen feel pain in their hearts, really more of a pang, a magic pair of spectacles reveals this thread. They're forced to follow it across a frozen countryside, untangling it from branches and spooling it as they cross the ocean to China and a waiting baby girl.

Lin makes the parable to modern-day adoptions plain with opening and closing scenes showing a Chinese-American girl asking her Anglo parents to read her favorite story (this book, of course). At the end, they're also wearing toy crowns. I'd almost argue that this framing device wasn't necessary, except that I know Lin's natural empathy for families and her gift for portraying their dynamics with great optimism and affection.

The biggest achievement, however, is that the fairy tale format takes a difficult subject -- what is adoption, why do people adopt -- and makes it vivid and somehow more real, where a factual explanation would fall flat.

Rating: *\*\*\

August 31, 2007

Walk a mile in another's paws

Tracks of a Panda
by Nick Dowson; illustrated by Yu Rong

Candlewick Press

Like Chinese poetry, this narrative is lean and flowing, celebrating nature by immersing us in it. Though not technically a poem, the text has that same rhythmic feel of translated Chinese verse, and even mimics its minimalist descriptions and solemn tone.

It's told in the present tense as if unfolding right now, from the mother panda's perspective but without anthropomorphizing. Dowson takes us through birth and the first year, as seasons change, food becomes scarce and the mother's strength falters. Predators and humans encroach, and there's the never-ceasing need to suckle even when she's exhausted and starved.

Nope, you don't get a sentimentalized, Disney-fied version of a dancing Mama bear and her goofy cub played by a hyper-caffeinated Robin Williams. Nature is tough, but  wondrous, if you know how to appreciate it.

This is a book for a quiet evening, one free of distractions, when curious eyes can marvel at the soothing, monochromatic watercolors with the occasional splash of fleshy pink or spring green. Rong grew up near the mountains that are home to dwindling panda populations and captures their habitat with a few easy strokes of a calligraphy brush.

Factoids on pandas are dropped onto every spread to satisfy your little must-know-it-all. Pair this book with Fox for a similar venture into the forest.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

April 02, 2007

Copycat

My Cat Copies Me
by Yoon-duck Kwon

I don't miss having a litter box to clean, but I know my kids would dearly love a cat. My son, I think, would empathize deeply with the shy girl in this story who bonds closely with her pet.

First the housebound girl shows us how the cat emulates the way she hides, or "helps" with the laundry or snuggles. At one point, the two switch, and the girl decides to stretch her body and mind and go exploring into the outside world. Hooray for her!

The text has an understated simplicity to it; sparse and lean, summing up the girl's glee or fear in a few swift keystrokes. It's paired with illustrations that borrow from both traditional Korean forms and colors with a contemporary sensibility.

The girl's at play in a modern world, but everything from the pattern on her dress to the books on the shelf borrow from a very specifically Korean pallette--more vivid than Japanese, more varied than Chinese--with multihued textures, shapes and forms, tinged with gold.

The compositions are uncluttered, but still bustle with activity and movement. While there's no perspective in most of the pictures, the central characters--girl and cat--keep our focus in the foreground. It's a happy marriage of childlike simplicity and Eastern influences, and it pushes me a few inches closer to breaking down and getting my kids a kitten.

Rating: *\*\*\

Buy it from Powells.

February 27, 2007

Superhuman Su Dongpo

A Celebration: The Year of the Boar began Feb. 18th

Su Dongpo: Chinese Genius
by Demi

Reviewed by Deb Clark

Su Dongpo is a celebrated poet, artist, writer, calligrapher and statesman of 11th-century China. Single-monikered author and illustrator Demi credits Su Dongpo, also known as Su Shih, as “the heart and soul of Chinese culture” in this handsome biography.

Was there anything this guy couldn’t do? Growing up he was so charming and talented that birds landed in his outstretched hands, people gathered simply to hear his musical voice as he recited his lessons, his art was described as mystical and he wrote poems that are admired to this day.

As an adult, Su Dongpo became an accomplished and admired government official with a record of achievements that Barack Obama would kill to claim for his own. Su Dongpo is credited with, among other things, creating China’s first public hospital, inventing sanitation systems, improving the welfare of prisoners, standardizing grain prices, granting college loans and aiding famine victims, while all the time vocally—and poetically—decrying government corruption (an endeavor that got him banished twice, although the hardship only seemed to deepen his contentment and enlightenment).

The absolute best part of this book are Demi’s detailed, Chinese-style illustrations in glowing colors outlined by luminous gold boxes. They go a long way in propping up the uneven text, at times stiff while at others divinely clever, and all throughout punctuated with choice translations of Su Dongpo’s poetry.

Su Dongpo may have been “The Very Best,” as this book concludes, but this book is simply very good. And that’s not bad at all.

Rating: *\*\

February 22, 2007

A delicacy served up with Chopsticks

A Celebration: The Year of the Boar began Feb. 18th.

Chopsticks
by Jon Berkeley

A tiny mouse befriends a wooden dragon in this simple story that takes place on the Chinese New Year in Hong Kong Harbor. Anything is possible, and thanks to Berkeley's atmospheric description, it's easy for a child to suspend disbelief.

He paints whole scenes in a few lines of prose, so we're right down there with little Chopsticks, the mouse, as he scurries late at night in search of crumbs on the floor of a floating restaurant. It's an impressive place, with hundreds of windows and two enormous carved dragons guarding its mammoth entrance.

We might even tremble in empathy too when, one New Year's night, one of the dragons clears his throat and asks Chopsticks to draw near. Turns out he wants to confide his secret longing to Chopstick, and a friendship is born.

Berkeley's Hong Kong Harbor is a misty dreamscape, where an old carver in his sampam holds the secret to granting the dragon's wish. The dragon's a friendly sort, with big, cheerful eyes and a lopsided grin, and, like Chopstick, you instantly want to help him out.

His acrylics glow with filtered sunlight and streaks of gold radiate from gleaming surfaces. We're keenly aware of Chopstick's diminutive size amidst the bustle of the world's busiest harbor, but we never lose sight of the little fella' as he sets out to help his new buddy.

This is a perfect one for teaching about friendship, about good deeds, and about bringing your own sense of adventure to all you do.

Rating: *\*\*\

February 21, 2007

Liu and the bird

A Celebration: The Year of the Boar began Feb. 18th

Liu and the Bird: A Journey in Chinese Calligraphy
by Catherine Louis, calligraphy by Feng Xiao Min; translated by Sibylle Kazeroid

This simple story distills Chinese pictographs into their most basic elements, showing how they evolved to their present forms. But it's also a delightful and poetic story about a girl who dreams her grandfather calls to her from across the mountains.

She sets out on foot, recording the scenery and people she encounters in her calligraphy, creating multiple layers of storytelling. I read each page carefully, going over the boldfaced English words (the original was in French) and matching them to the Chinese symbols to make sure I understood.

Louis writes on the back flap that she used linocuts, a type of woodcut, with dyed paper so she could "contrast the strong lines of the prints with the softness of the torn paper." It creates a striking visual effect, with the print marks simulating the strokes of a calligraphy brush, and the vivid colors of a Westernized palette bleeding elegantly into the paper beneath.

Chinese calligraphy will always be a subject that must be absorbed rather than scanned; make sure you have some quiet time for its meditative lessons.

Note: includes activities for creating pictograms with your kids.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

About
Anne Boles Levy

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