Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

A fantastic tale veers off-course

The Adventures of Abdi

by Madonna; illustrated by Olga Dugina and Andrej Dugin

     It’s so hard to hate an exquisitely illustrated book. Maybe I can just dwell on how the husband-wife team of Dugin/Dugina conjures a fantasy orient, mixing Middle- and Near-Eastern touches with a dash of India thrown in.

     Bedouin carts brim two stories tall, a guard carries a half-dozen enormous swords, a snake charmer has a cobra's body. It's as if these scenes are so breathtaking in their sweep, they can't fit fully on the page and cram against the edges, a clever device that lets the reader feel the awe of the humble, small boy at the story's center.

     Oh yeah, the story. Can't we skip this part?

     There’s so many fantasy-book rule violations, I want to call Madonna offside and penalize her for life. The plot: Abdi’s an apprentice to a fabulous jeweler, Eli, and I mean that in the classic fantasy sense. The jewelry is so wondrous, people swear it brings them good fortune, though Madonna’s just finished telling us you pretty much need a fortune to afford Eli’s creations.

     The king wants a bauble for the queen. It’s entrusted to naïve Abdi to carry it on the long journey to the palace – no royal courier for something so precious, no adult escort. Guess what? It’s stolen. Nooooo ...

     One of the thieves’ names is El Shaydi. Get it? If you're thinking Spanish, you're in the wrong part of Madonna's brain. “El Shaddai” is a Hebrew name for “G-d Almighty,” (which I easily googled, btw).

     I’m presuming either Madonna isn’t as up on her Kabbalah as she insists, or she has issues with the Big Guy left over from her “Like a Prayer” days or she’s hinting at something deep and metaphorical that never materializes.

     El Shaydi substitutes a snake for the Queen’s necklace. A veiled reference to Eden? Doubt it. After Abdi’s blamed for the bait-and-switch and tossed in a dungeon, he has, um, certainty that it’ll all work out anyway. Not faith, you understand. Certainty. There's a difference, apparently.

     Eli appears – voila – and magically turns the snake into the missing necklace and lectures us again about certainty. In most fantasies, simply revealing Eli as a magician is trick enough. In a story with an actual G-d in it, Eli's act would be a miracle brought about by stalwart trust in Providence, making him a prophet.

     Apparently Madonna wants it both ways, minus any actual mention of a higher power, the result being a muddle of sentimentality and empty moralizing. Certainty in what? That wizards will appear when we most need them?

     It’s a pity Madonna obviously never had editors courageous enough to teach her how to make fabulist fiction work without Deus ex machina. There could’ve been a compelling and amusing story here, but she undermines whatever message she intended with clumsy plot contrivances and jarring near-blasphemy.

     But then, that’s Madonna for you.

Note: reviewed by Anne Levy

Rating: *\*\

A classic retold

Thumbelina

by Hans Christian Andersen; retold and illustrated by Lauren Mills

     On the book's back flap, Mills declares a bold ambition for this 19th century classic: to update the language and give the heroine a 21st-century makeover.

     The goal was apparently to make Thumbelina less helpless and pluckier, without turning her into a three-inch-tall amazon, of course. And it works. Mills' Thumbelina remains demur and sweet, rendered in watercolor brushstrokes so fine as to be ethereal.

     Thumbelina's a tiny fairy born between tulip petals and raised by a childless widow. But her fate isn't in her own diminutive hands; she's bandied about like a leaf in the wind, and just as frail.

     She's kidnapped or courted by a series of unsuitable suitors; a hideous toad, a fickle beetle, an arrogant, short-sighted mole. Sounds like a few people you might've dated? Mills injects a dash of caricature into the critters, which keeps the story from veering into melodrama.

     Thumbelina eventually escapes, thanks to a swallow she secretly befriended. Mills creates visual cues to the girl's transformation, morphing Thumbelina from a wispy waif to someone more stolid, almost peasant-like, then giving her a final, regal flourish.

     Modern girls, oversold on unrealistic feminine ideals from Bratz to Barbie, shouldn't be put off by a soft-spoken heroine who triumphs through old-fashioned kindness. It's an idea whose time should come again.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Big kudos from a little boy

My Daddy is a Giant

by Carl Norac; illustrated by Ingrid Godon

     Dad's so big, he must stoop to fit on the pages. Birds nest in his hair and clouds rest on his shoulders. And of course his little boy wants to be just like him.

     This is one boy's paean to the father who's ever at his side, but whose real largesse clearly comes from his bond with his son. Godon renders the proud papa in paint and pastels against solid backdrops in subdued, earthy tones. Seasons pass with subtle variations in background hues and changes of clothes, yet Daddy's always there, always engaged, and always larger than life.

     Okay, so there's no actual plot. Does there need to be? Once upon a time, a boy could brag that his Dad was better than your Dad. This book makes me believe that perhaps despite seismic shifts in modern families, that might still be true.

     Note: This is the third review for Father's Day. We hope all our Daddy readers enjoy their holiday.

Rating: *\*\

More fun with fathers

My Daddy and Me

by Amy E. Sklansky; illustrated by Ard Hoyt

     Some things always go well together: Peanut butter and jelly. The moon and the stars. Hot chocolate and marshmallows. Using pairings like these, Sklansky takes you through the seasons comparing fun twosomes to "Daddy and me."

We go together, like honey and bees. Like peanut butter and jelly, like hide-and-seek.

     The clever, easily recognized pairings draw children in along with the breezy, colorful illustrations of fathers and their sons and daughters playing, laughing and just plain enjoying each other's company -- no matter what they are doing.

     I like the simple way this book shows the beautiful bond between Dads and their kids -- just hanging out and having a blast together. My 5-year-old giggles at the pairings, like "boots and rain" with pictures of the father and son jumping enthusiastically in the puddles.

Note: Reviewed by Dawn Mena. Another Father's Day review will follow tomorrow.

Rating: *\*\*\

An everyday hero

Because Your Daddy Loves You

by Andrew Clements; illustrated by R.W. Alley

     No sooner had I started this blog than I noticed one terrible trend in kiddie lit: the lack of Dads. I'd open book after book where Daddy was M.I.A., and it was left to Mom to soothe boo-boos or impart wisdom.

     To me, that's even worse than TV commercials portraying the family patriarch as a know-nothing buffoon, always in the way and getting it wrong. At least those men are physically present.

     So for Father's Day, I'm introducing a new category -- Dads -- and reviewing two books for the Man of the House.

     The first is a delightful jaunt to the beach with a loving, tender pop and his adoring daughter. There's no Mom in this book, making it a perfect gift for those fathers flying solo.

     Clements' Dad rejects the aloof, stern stereotypes and always opts to dispel nightmares, rummage for that misplaced shoe or wade into cold surf for a lost ball -- just like the father I knew growing up, and which no little princess should be without.

     Alley's cartoonish illustrations lend a humorous touch, padding Dad out a bit and softening his edges, without making him goofy or klutzy. He's just a regular guy, reveling in his role as an everyday hero.

Note: the next Dads book will be reviewed on Thursday. 

Rating: *\*\*\

Henpecked

Old Mr. Mackle Hackle

by Gunnar Madsen; illustrated by Irana Shepherd

     Like chicken jokes? Me neither. But here’s a few to egg you on:

How does a chicken bake a cake?
From scratch!

What do you call a crazy chicken?
A cuckoo cluck!

     Hah! The pretext for all this fowl play is a henpecked bird whose owner, Mr. Mackle Hackle, frets when she doesn’t cackle for him. But it’s his turn to get his feathers ruffled after her chicks hatch.

     There are moments of inspired silliness and some rhymes that truly sparkle, even as the puns make you cluck disapprovingly. Madsen-- founder of the a capella group the Bobs -- states on the back flap that this is a story about letting go and not worrying, but it doesn’t need the explanation.

     Sometimes it’s just better to let a crazy idea hatch on its own and then let it take wing.

Rating: *\*\*\

Buster on the tube

Postcards from Buster

Buster on the Town
Buster on the Farm
Buster Plays Along

by Marc Brown

     “Postcards from Buster,” a spin-off from the PBS cartoon “Arthur,” has in turn prompted a series of books tagged to different reading levels.

     The plots follow different episodes, but benefit from an eye-catching layout that mixes postcards, video captures and cartoon illustrations. One caveat: the video captures are grainy and hard to discern, as with a group of black cows in a barn that merge into one large, fuzzy shadow. A straightforward snapshot would’ve done better.

     The stories are simple and contemporary: Buster travels with his Dad to different U.S. cities and meets a real-life boy or girl. In Chicago, a Pakistani-American girl takes him to a favorite ethnic sweet shop. In Indiana, a farm girl gets him up early to milk cows, and in San Antonio he wheezes out a few accordian tunes with a Mexican-American boy.

     Of course, the real point of any TV-based book is to build the character franchise, so parents who value literature over branding might want to look elsewhere. But Arthur and Buster fans should enjoy the book series.

Rating: *\*\

Minding their manners

Mini Manners

Little Skills

by Tanya Napier; illustrated by Airlie Anderson

     Every now and then, I come across a book so useful its utility outweighs any other consideration. And any book – or collection of booklets, in this case – that can get my introverted toddler to confidently shout “hello!” or “thank you” in a crowded classroom or playground deserves a gold star of gratitude.

     Each box set contains three books and a progress chart with stickers. In the "Little Skills" set, a nameless bunny is put through his paces brushing his teeth, dressing himself or going potty. In "Mini Manners," he masters such rudimentary courtesies as please and thank you, hello and goodbye and the ever-important "sorry."

     The lessons are so tactfully imparted, with goofy examples of what NOT to do, that the messages hit home without Mommy having to noodge him every five seconds or order a dozen time outs. My tot wants to do what the bunny does, simple as that.

     The few lines that rhyme never rise above the “poo” and “you” variety, and the illustrations of bunny and his animal friends are flat, if bright. But then, how often I forget these books aren’t written with my entertainment in mind.

Note: comes with reward stickers and progress chart.

Rating: *\*\*\