Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

The Art of Music

Piano Starts Here: The Young Art Tatum
by Robert Andrew Parker
Schwartz & Wade Books

Okay, I know I've railed against adding junque to picture books. But every now and then, it makes sense. Just sometimes. And this is one of those times I'd hoped for a CD of the glorious sounds Art Tatum made during the height of the Jazz Age.

Sorry to say I'd never heard of him, despite an ex-boyfriend who chirped endlessly about jazz legends and took me to some of Philadelphia's nicest jazz venues, even to one of Cab Calloway's very last performances. Not much of it stuck, I'm afraid.

Still, I'm not a complete philistine, and I'd love to have heard some of the magic that clearly drew Parker to Tatum's story. He doesn't so much tell as envision--becoming Tatum as he narrates an early life filled with wonder despite dim eyesight:

...because of my bad eyes, day and night, dark and light, don't really matter to me. Not the way sounds and smells do--piano notes, streetcar bells, corn bread baking in the oven.

The son of working class African Americans in Toledo, Tatum takes to his mother's piano, making it an extension of self, a way of connecting to the seeing world through touch and sound. Parker's poetic, visceral narration floats through the milestones: the first time he's asked to play in church, the night his father sneaks him into a honky-tonk, a radio station asking him to play. We're always aware of his music's effect on others: his father tossing his mother's apron aside so they can boogie, a smoke-filled bar growing hushed.

Parker used watercolor as if to recreate the blur that Tatum must've seen through his weak eyes: everything is smudges of color and imprecise lines, faces fading into dark backgrounds, light streaking across the keyboard.

Now if only, if only, I could hear that music too.

Rating *\*\*\

End notes fill in much of the story, but that's not why you buy this book.

Men (and women) behaving badly

The Book of Time Outs: A Mostly True History of the World's Biggest Troublemakers
by Deb Lucke

Simon & Schuster

The adage "well-behaved women seldom make history" apparently holds true for men too, if you believe Lucke's take on the baddest overgrown kids to ever hog the world stage. In this witty, original take on historic greats, Napoleon "took things that didn't belong to him. Like other people's countries," and ended up cooling his heels on an island. And Bach "simply could not live in harmony." Heh.

Other biggies are given the burlesque treatment, humorously reducing them to ill-tempered brats and miscreants fretting over their misdeeds in exile or prison. More than a few women make the pages, from Cleopatra coveting brother Ptolemy's throne to Rosa Parks and her infamous bus ride. Lucke's sole misstep is one of tone and occurs in the endnote, lumping good and evil together:

It's possible that one or two of our time-outers looked deep into their hearts and thought, "Maybe, just maybe, I  did need to cool down a bit." We can't know for sure.

That seems a bit harsh to the beloved Parks, no?

The illustrations get down and dirty with their naughty subjects, and pouts, grimaces and tears flow freely across brightly colored, double-page spreads.

The prose is tight and sardonic in tone, meant clearly for fun and not as a primer. Still, it can foster discussions on who all these famous tyros were, and how to distinguish civil disobedience from just plain ol' contrariness.

Rating: *\*\*\

High fashion

Different Like Coco
by Elizabeth Matthews

I suppose I should thank Coco Chanel that I don't wear corsets. Should I also be grateful for our culture's obsession with thinness?

I mean, yes, I'm glad that clothes must no longer be yanked on and strapped to our bodies. But we now must sculpt our bodies to fit the clothes. And it's all thanks to one woman who wouldn't be corseted by the narrow social confines of fin de siecle Paris.

Matthews takes on the woman who founded the world's most famous couture house with just a sewing machine and a storefront with her name emblazoned in capital letters. Chanel was packed off to an orphanage at age 12 and taught to ply a trade with a needle and thread, but she was fascinated with how upper-crust women dressed, talked, even comported themselves.

Matthews sticks Chanel's nose as high in the air as anyone's; we can imagine the graceful arc of her arms as she swung them or the light step of her shoes beneath shockingly high hemlines. We can admire her haughty smile as she accepted the stares and gapes of the public whenever she sauntered past in one of her creations.

Chanel made clothes for herself, that fit her spindly figure and outsized persona. She sewed clothes that lacked a waist and draped over a flat chest and flaunted her well-turned calves, that didn't bind or conceal or reshape. When other women wanted to achieve that effortless glamour too, the corset and hoop skirt were finished.

While Chanel flourished, us full-figured gals languished, trying to squeeze into clothes that no longer complied. Matthews' pen-and-ink and watercolor illustrations makes them look cartoonish and ungainly, but I wasn't laughing. There's a lesson there that Matthews only touches upon, that the revolution Chanel launched has arguably given us today's wave of anorexia and heroin-chic.

Even so, thrust this book into the hands of your fashion-obsessed girls. It tells us where we came from, and drives home the point that Prince Charming wasn't going to rip off our bodices. We had to do that ourselves, all thanks to one stubborn perfectionist who saw liberation in the trim lines of her dress.

Rating: *\*\*\

Well Done, Moses

Moses: When Harriet Tubman Led Her People to Freedom
by Carole Boston Weatherford; illustrated by Kadir Nelson

Reviewed by Deb Clark

Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. –Harriet Tubman

Moses is a fictional story based on the spiritual journey of Harriet Tubman, a slave in 19th-century America who possessed the courage not only to escape the brutal life of a Maryland plantation and run away to free soil in Philadelphia, but also the compassion to make the dangerous journey south over and over again to bring her family and hundreds of others to freedom. She became known as the Moses of her people, never once getting caught or losing a passenger.

Weatherford’s powerful text employs a poetic interplay of three voices—the narrator’s, Harriet’s and God’s—to evoke the call-and-response tradition of the black church as Harriet calls upon her deep faith to sustain her on her first treacherous journey north.

Harriet’s feet bleed and her gut churns.
Under the stars, she draws near to God.

Lord, don’t let nobody turn me ‘round;
I’d rather die than be a slave.

HARRIET, KEEP GOING. YOU HAVE ALREADY GLIMPSED THE FUTURE.

The dramatic, unromanticized story is coupled with breathtakingly intense oil-and-watercolor paintings that earned Nelson a 2007 Caldecott Honor Book award and a 2007 Coretta Scott King Illustrator Book Award.

A foreword provides a brief explanation of slavery and an author’s note gives a short biography of Tubman's life.

Whether readers choose this book for the history, spirituality or emotionally charged illustrations--or all three--it's a compelling introduction to an extraordinary woman whose story deserves to be retold for generations to come, not only for the remarkable feats she accomplished but also for the sense of potential her courageous acts can encourage in the rest of us.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

THE BOYS OF SUMMER Three books about baseball

Spring training has come to my beloved Florida. Cubs season will soon blossom in Chicago. That means peanuts, crackerjack, the National Anthem and lots of water cooler talk about stats and steroids.

Ahh, baseball. I'm not obsessed, but there's something thrilling about the stadiums and the warm, summery air, the organ music and people waving and the players in their tight uniforms. Oooh, especially that.

I have three books up at bat about America's favorite pastime. They're all fun--not a bad hitter in the bunch. Today, the most controversial one's up first:

Out of the Ballpark
by Alex Rodriguez; illustrated by Frank Morrison

Oh, I know all about the BACA folks who don't like celebrity kidlit authors. I'm on the fence about the whole thing, but the sports hero known as Arod's come up with a pretty decent story. Why hate him because he's beautiful?

This purports to be a story he wrote his very own self about his childhood in the Dominican Republic. There's a Spanish version out too. My son, who is learning Hebrew in school, only likes the Spanish version read to him. Go figure.

The story isn't exactly true; it's that dreaded "based on" idea. The young Alex works his little tush off. He's a dedicated tyke; he practices catching a ball off his bedroom wall, even, which drives his Mama nuts--she works as a cleaning lady (not anymore, I bet). And, yeah, he scores the winning run in the big game. Okay, so he doesn't get big points for originality.

But he's a cheerful, green-eyed kid, and if you don't root for him, it's 'cuz you're eating sour grapes instead of peanuts.

Morrison's acrylics are super-charged with light and energy; I've seen his illustrations for Queen Latifah's Queen of the Scene and there's no one who captures athletic kids with more verve, from the swatches of electric colors to the exaggerated lankiness of their limbs.

The lesson: it didn't come easy. Arod worked for it. And at the end? A tribute to his wife and son. Now that's hot.

Rating: *\*\

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: *\*\

She's some sushi chef (say that 10x fast)

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

Hiromi's Hands
by Lynne Barasch

A story about sushi? I'm all over it. Drrrooool. This is the true story of one of the first female sushi chefs, who just happened to be best friends with the author's daughter. Very cool.

Hiromi Suzuki narrates how she followed in her father's footsteps, learning the ancient art at his side in his restaurant in New York. She begins with her father's apprenticeship in Japan, and then traces how her career paralleled his: the fascination with the fish market, the determination to learn traditional methods to perfection, the pride in her craft.

Barasch makes it as much a story about family values and love as it is about a woman breaking into traditional men's territory. The illustrations, in ink and watercolor, capture the bustle of two fish markets--one in Tokyo, the other the legendary Fulton Fish Market--but also neatly lays out how father and then daughter progressed from apprentice to experienced chef.

A detailed spread shows us all the different types of sushi, which I worked hard to keep from slobbering over.

Oddly enough, my son, who refuses to touch the stuff, is fascinated by this story and has requested repeated reads. Maybe I can win him over yet. A little cucumber roll, y'think?

Rating: *\*\

Tough enough for a man

Rough, Tough, Charley
by Verla Kay; illustrated by Adam Gustavson

CAUTION: Spoilers!

It wasn't uncommon for escaped mulatto slaves to  "pass for white" to evade  recapture. And I've met any number of transgendered women who donned men's clothes and a macho swagger. But I didn't imagine there'd be a woman who needed to "pass" for a man, though it makes perfect sense in a time when women weren't counted in the census, couldn't vote or own land, and all the other "couldn'ts" we've thankfully tossed aside.

There were probably many Charley Parkhursts through history, but probably not as colorful as the renowned stagecoach driver and horseman, yes, man, who joined a fraternal lodge, voted and owned his own home. "His" secret wasn't discovered until after death, and Kay does a terrific job in her signature style of letting the secrets and clues pile up through simple couplets.

Gustavson writes on the end page that he visited horse farms and read Old West books for his illustrations, which capture some of the rugged beauty of the West and Charley's singular grit. The oil paintings layer on visual clues: the fancy blue gloves Charley favored, and a certain oddness about the way he carried his slender frame, not to mention a very unmanly gentleness around horses.

Fabulous stuff, and quite a wild ride. Includes a timeline in back.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Patching together African-American history

I remember being so struck by Jacqueline Woodson's Show Way, I fretted over whether to donate it to Hurricane Katrina victims. I decided to part with it, though it hurt to do so, but  hoped it would find a home with someone who needed it more.

I have two more books in front of me that feature African-American quilting, and, as in Show Way, where the quilts become symbols of freedom. While neither captures the break-all-the-molds uniqueness of Show Way, both are also based on real people and left me somehow feeling both uplifted and heartbroken at the same time.

Historically Hysterical

John, Paul, George & Ben
by Lane Smith

Reviewed by Deb Clark

Sometimes I find myself attracted to children’s entertainers. Not just any old birthday clown or balloon twister. It’s got to be someone who holds my kids in rapt attention for at least 15 precious, precious minutes.

I had a crush, sight unseen, on Elmo’s puppeteer. I thought it would be fun to go to a Wiggles concert and throw granny panties on stage. And whoever was behind that Baby Van Gogh video— the only thing that calmed my colicky infant—has a place in my heart forever.

But those affections were mere trifles compared to the latest target of my mommy love. Because this new guy, well, he entertains me, too. I’m talking about Lane Smith, writer and illustrator of several funny, witty, silly books for children. He is the illustrator of one of my all-time faves, The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales. I loved that book so much I owned it a decade before I even thought I wanted children.

His latest, John, Paul, George & Ben, tells the story of four of our founding fathers (Hancock, Revere, Washington & Franklin, with Thomas Jefferson thrown in) when they were children and the childhood traits that proved mighty useful in their grown-up roles making history. I especially like the part about Paul Revere being so addled from frequently ringing church bells (his hobby) that he talked extremely loud, much to the annoyance of customers at his shop.

“EXTRA-LARGE UNDERWEAR? Sure we have some! Let’s see, Large…LARGE…EXTRA-LARGE! Here they are! Great, BIG extra-large underwear!”
Paul was like a bullhorn in a china shop…
It took many years and a midnight ride for people to finally appreciate his special talent.
“THE REDCOATS ARE COMING”
Everyone except that big-underwear lady.
She was still mad.

Combine that with faux-antiqued oil illustrations that look like manic Peanuts characters in 18th-century garb. Oh, it makes me laugh every time. Okay, so obviously Smith plays pretty fast and loose with historical facts in this book. If you don’t like that, try reading your young kids some straightforward history and see how far that gets you. There is a true or false section in the back of the book that sets the record straight with entries like:

The Revere shop sold extra-large underwear.
[FALSE] The Revere shop sold silver. But extra-large underwear is always funnier.

The book is for readers 5 and up, but I think grade-school kids will get more out of it than my four-year-old did. She’s just too young—and too unaware of American history—to get the jokes. Although she thought the extra-large underwear was funny, too.

I will keep this book. And I will read it. Sometimes to my girls. Sometimes to myself after yet another command performance of Disney’s Five-Minute Princess Stories. Oh, Lane Smith, I can’t live without you!

Rating: *\*\*\*\