Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

POETRY FRIDAY God Bless the Child

God Bless the Child
By Billie Holiday and Arthur Herzog Jr.; illustrated by Jerry Pinkney
Amistad/HarperCollins

Oooh ... tingles. Pair a classic song by legendary Billie Holiday with the illustrator's fascination with the Great Migration, and you've got one powerful depiction of an amazing era in African American history.

Pinkney's watercolors capture every detail in a subdued palette that brims with diffused light. You can make out the grains on wood and the hope on faces as sharecropping families leave the South behind and eke out a better existence in northern cities.

That things didn't work out so well for so many isn't dealt with here, where we're still on the cusp of something new and great. The full-bleed illustrations dwell on intimate family scenes or the sweep of cityscapes, with the storytelling left to the readers. Holiday and Herzog's lyrics suggest the fickleness of fortune; Pinkney's art picks up on its more redemptive notes.

Money, you got lots o' friends,
Crowdin' round the door,
When you're gone and spendin' ends,
They don't come no more.

Rich relations give,
Crust of bread and such,
You can help yourself,
But don't take too much!

Mama may have,
Papa may have,
But God bless the child
That's got his own!
That's got his own.

Here she is with Count Bassie. Enjoy!

A primary book on elections

If I Ran for President
by Catherine Stier; illustrated by Lynne Avril

Albert Whitman & Co.

How fitting that the child on the cover is African-American, just two days after Barack Obama's historic win in the Iowa caucuses. Because now when this book, like so many others, says anyone can run for president, you can read it with conviction in your voice, regardless of your political persuasion.

There are the usual caveats, as an introduction cautiously points out: you have to be born here, for one. And it tries to sum up our baffling electoral college in a few quick lines.

But then we move swiftly into the election cycle--the year of media blitz, campaign stops, caucuses and primaries and conventions and The Big Night in early November. It's a taut summary of what it takes to run, filled with cutesy-isms like the candidate showing off his straight-A report card or favorite pets frolicking in the oval office.

We get this all from a kid's eye view. Or rather, several views, as it rotates through six different kids of varying ethnicities; three of each gender, all without making any mention of such skin-deep differences.

It all sounds giddily exciting, a year of wow-bam-wahoo fun, nevermind all the nasty adult stuff like partisan attacks, media stalking and those nasty campaign ads. There's plenty of time for kids to lose their innocence about that stuff--the New Hampshire primary's tomorrow, after all.

Rating: *\*\*\

Getting all Medieval on us

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!
Voices from a Medieval Village

by Laura Amy Schlitz; illustrated by Robert Byrd

Candlewick Press

Why I didn't order this at first: wrong age group. Too mature for my wee 'uns. Then came a flurry of emails from my colleagues at the Cybils contest: was this non-fiction or fiction? Was it poetry? Middle-grade or young adult?

Nobody knew quite where to put these 19 lyrical monologues of children's voices from the thirteenth century. Schlitz -- last year's Cybils winner in the Middle-Grade fiction genre -- had stumped some of the smartest bloggers in kidlit land.

I developed a serious jones for this genre bender and Candlewick obliged. From the cover illustration on, the tweens and teens who inhabit this fictional village have taken up residence in my imagination, where they continue to flirt and jostle, scrounge out a living, sin and repent and hunger and triumph. I imagine their beatings, their wasted frames and matted hair and share their hard-scrabble existence through 81 brief pages, with smatterings of discreetly placed background notes.

Schlitz wrote this for students at a private school in Baltimore, where she's a librarian and historian. When she offered to write a play that truly depicted life in the Middle Ages, nobody wanted a minor part. She created 21 scenes, all but two of them for a single actor, and most of them in verse. As the characters speak, they offer an unflinching view of their poverty, their superstitions and prejudices and the limited scope of their ambitions.

And, like any kids, they're brightly optimistic, cheerful in their adversity, and full of imagination and daring.

We meet the Lord of the Manor's nephew, who risks his life in a boar hunt; a glassblower's apprentice determined to get it right; a shepherdess struggling to save her "sister" sheep, and many other charming, disarming and (mostly) guileless kids struggling to figure out their place in the local pecking order and how to bridge those awkward years until adulthood.

Even with so many disparate voices, there are no discordant notes. Village life emerges with its rhythms, its simplicity, and narrative threads that weave all the characters into a cohesive whole. Byrd helpfully illustrates with scenes that could've come from a Book of Hours; his approximation of Medieval illuminations are so close that I forgot I'd already seen his name on the cover and searched the extensive bibliography for the pictures' source.

Although the scenes are meant to be performed or at least read aloud by 10-15 year olds, this can also be read silently by one very absorbed kid -- or, ahem, grown-up.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Say It Ain't Sew

Abbie in Stitches
by Cynthia Cotten; illustrated by Beth Peck

Reviewed by Deb Clark

Growing up in western New York State in the early 1800s, young Abbie Rogers loathes her needlework lessons. She’d much rather read books. But books are for boys. For girls, sewing’s the skill needed to make a family’s clothes and linens.

So Abbie labors over her first sampler every day for months, stitch by abominable stitch, as illustrated in Peck’s pastel images with impressionistic touches. It doesn’t help that Abbie’s older sister, Sarah, loves sewing and is an accomplished seamstress. Or that the girls in her weekly needlework lessons stitch far more neatly. And Abbie keeps pricking her fingers on the needle! Although once, when she jabbed herself particularly hard, Mama did let her sit by the fire and read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

In the end, Abbie finds a clever way to do as she’s told while simultaneously venting her true feelings. She is rewarded for her daring outspokenness.

I like to think children’s books that showcase young girls speaking up for themselves—especially ones like this that are intelligent and engaging—provide a much-needed public service, teaching our kids, regardless of gender, that girls—and women—have a right to their own lives. But I have to wonder if all the happy endings aren’t a bit misleading. Wouldn’t it be more historically accurate and true to life, and thus more instructive, to show a character every now and then standing up for her beliefs and getting smacked around for it? At least a little bit? Could be a valuable lesson.

Of course, I must remember that what I take from these books and what my kids hear aren’t always one and the same. After reading this story, I said to my older daughter, “Can you believe there was a time when girls weren’t supposed to read books?” She looked up at me for a few seconds and I imagined her mind grappling with such a preposterous concept. I couldn’t wait to hear her thoughts. Then she said, “Can I have some juice now?” And that was that.

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: *\*\*\*\

History of (a) Rock

The Story of Salt
by Mark Kurlansky; illustrated by S.D. Schindler

Reviewed by Deb Clark

Adapted for children from Mark Kurlansky’s adult bestseller Salt: A World History, this book recounts the weighty historic significance and scientific aspects of this most-important seasoning, making it a pretty involved topic for kids.

Both the adult and children’s version of this story have racked up rave reviews thanks to Kurlansky’s writing prowess and salt’s interesting history.

Did you know that early salt excavations in 200 B.C. China would occasionally lead to massive and deadly explosions? That without salt, there would be no ancient Egyptian mummies? That Roman Emperor Augustus gave out free salt to win public support for a war (W wishes he had it so easy)? That the high taxes on salt levied by France’s King Louis XIV lead to a prosperous salt-smuggling trade? That salt was an early and integral part of Gandhi’s campaign for Indian independence?

Energetically detailed watercolor-and-ink illustrations, maps and charts accompany the immense amount of information.

It’s interesting stuff, full of fascinating characters and amazing tales. But the main character is a mineral, and history happens around it. A rock with a great backstory is still just a rock, which makes this book, like its subject, a matter of individual taste.

Rating: *\*\

Buy it from Powells.

When the circus came to town

Who Put the B in Ballyhoo?
by Carlyn Beccia

I'm just old enough to remember the last traveling circus to pitch its Big Tent in my hometown, complete with a sideshow my parents wouldn't let me see. No bearded lady for underage me. Drat!

But by the time I was old enough for such tawdry delights, circuses were a glitzy affair best housed in Madison Square Garden or Las Vegas. And a Brazilian wax took care of the hirsute madam's little problem.

Sure, you don't have to sweat it out in that stuffy tent nowadays, and there's no aroma of elephant patties, but surely we lost something when the stakes were pulled for the last time.

Beccia brings us back to when the circus coming to town was the big deal. She recreates the look of those hand-painted and -lettered bills that were plastered on barns and walls, and her tumultuous, frenzied compositions capture the larger-than-life antics in the ring, with some tantalizing factoids about what went on outside it.

We all know P. T. Barnum's maxim: "There's a sucker born every minute." But looking at those posters makes a believer out of me. I'm back there with peanut shells crunching underfoot, crinkling my nose and gaping in wonder.

It's an alphabet book, and she keeps her rhymes short, sweet and absolutely perfect:

H is for Hairy
for hair can be weird,
Some girls have curls
but Ann has a beard.

(I don't know what's with my obsession today. I just plucked my own chin, maybe that's it.)

While I've been charmed by this book, whether it gets picked up by contemporary kids with a thousand other entertainment options is hard to say.

Rating: *\*\*\

Pass the Peas!

Gregor Mendel: The Friar Who Grew Peas
by Cheryl Bardoe; illustrations by Jos. A. Smith

Reviewed by Deb Clark

History does not have to be boring. This book is proof. Gregor Mendel’s life, including his groundbreaking scientific discovery of the theory of heredity, is rendered thoroughly understandable and interesting. Somebody go tell my high-school social studies teacher.

Commissioned by Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History to accompany an exhibit on Mendel that will wrap up at the end of this month, this book is the first by exhibition manager Cheryl Bardoe. Let’s hope she writes many more. This woman has a talent for telling a story.

The text is full of interesting details that humanize brilliant Mendel and pull the reader into his tale. We learn of young Gregor’s ironclad determination to learn, his willingness to forego half his meals to pay for his education, his decision to become a friar so he could continue his studies. Later, we’re told how the value of Mendel’s revolutionary findings was completely overlooked during his lifetime, and how the experience soured him on future scientific exploration.

The story really shines in its clear explanation of Mendel’s eight-year experiment planting peas that lead to his discovery of a fundamental aspect of genetic science: how traits are passed down through generations. Lovely and meticulous watercolor illustrations further enliven Mendel’s story and provide extra clarity to the scientific fine points.

I love to read this book to my children, but I also enjoy reading it myself.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

THE BOYS OF SUMMER Something to sing about

Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Lyrics by Jack Norworth; illustrated by Jim Burke, with an introduction by Pete Hamill

At one point in our history--before ESPN, before the Internet, before radio--baseball was as close to a national religion as the Constitution would allow. And going out the ballgame was no ordinary day at the park.

Burke takes us back with such authority, even the most diehard enthusiasts should be impressed. We get two stories in one: how Norworth thought up the lyrics to the beloved song. Did you know it was about a girl named Katie Casey? And that her outing was meant as a date with her beau?

And then there's the game itself, the 1908 pennant matchup between her beloved New York Giants and my new home team. The game would end in one of the biggest controversies to ever dog the sport--the notorious Merkle Boner, when a runner neglected to tag second base as fans rushed the field. It cost the Giants big time.

Hey, this is what they did to aggravate fans before steroids were invented, okay?

As the fictional Katie and the game's history collide at home plate, I got a little tingly. I did! It's owing in no small part to Burke's meticulous realism. He captures it all: The ladies' fashions with their frills and plumage, the men's straw boaters, the easy formality and politesse you can see in every pose and gesture.

His oil paintings are set off with a white border across from both the lyrics and the historical narration. Within each frame is a masterpiece of classical composition and light; each a study in period detail, and each is what artsy types call a "storyteller"--a stand-alone narrative.

I'd even say they were elegant, except for Katie's wonderfully manic expressions; the picture of her making frustrated, scrunched-up faces behind the much-abused umpire is straight out of Norman Rockwell.

We get to meet a real a hero in Christy Mathewson, "The Christian Gentleman" because he promised his Momma he wouldn't play on Sundays. Do they make 'em like that anymore?

Anything else? Ah, yes, the origin of crackerjack. The fate of the famed Polo Grounds where the Giants played. And whatever happened to that poor Merkle fellow.

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: *\*\*\*\