Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

Blossoms for Mom

Flower Garden
by Eve Bunting; illustrated by Kathryn Hewitt
Harcourt, Inc.

I haven't reviewed many board books, but then I haven't encountered many as lovely and enticing as this one. A young girl and her Dad are planning a special birthday surprise for her mother in this sweet, all-too-brief story told in super-simple quatrains.

We meet the girl--and her would-be garden--in the store:

Garden in a shopping cart
Doesn't it look great?

Garden on the checkout stand
I can hardly wait.

And so it goes, until the flowers have been lugged home, repotted and perched in a window box overlooking a bustling city street. Hewitt captures expressions flawlessly in her warm, earthy acrylics, from the girl's glowing fascination to the mother's genuine surprise.

Nice, too, that the book's rugged cardboard will hold up to rough treatment from little fingers, as this may become a fast favorite. Toddlers are notorious for getting restless quickly, but the story is short and the rhymes easy, and you can point out flowers and colors to keep them engaged.

The art features an African-American family, but the appeal should quite obviously be universal. (I like how many illustrators no longer assume the default race of characters is white, but that's another topic for another day.)

Rating: *\*\*\

Sweet Jesus

I review Anne Rice's Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana in today's L.A. Times. Enjoy.

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POETRY FRIDAY Getting a glump in your throat

I'm beginning to feel a personal connection to Don't Bump the Glump!: And Other Fantasies, and not just because I attended the fancy launch party last week.

A quick rewind: it's Shel Silverstein's first poetry collection and the only one with color illustrations, which HarperCollins is reissuing. It's a classic, full of jottings and doodles of a mad menagerie of made-up monsters, and doesn't need a review from me. Just thought you'd like a little sample, is all.

But about that personal connection. I'm on a diet. I empathize with some of these hungry monsters. Though I'd rather have a few cookies or a slice of pizza than a little kid, thanks. Too bony for me. (though I do tell my kids they're scrumptious ...)

The Bibely

The Bibely's habits are rather crude
He shuns all ordinary food
And rather enjoys
Girls and boys.
So when you sense him drawing near
Pour some ketchup in your ear
And pretend you're a roast
Or a poached egg on toast
Or a small piece of blueberry pie--
And maybe he'll walk right by.

Curing with cookies

Doctor Ted
by Andrea Beaty; illustrated by Pascal Lemaitre
Margaret K. McElderry Books (Simon & Schuster)

Beaty brings her sharp wit to another character with a fertile imagination who runs afoul of us numskull adults. Ted's a bear who wakes up and bangs his knee. When he can't find a doctor anywhere in his room, he dons a labcoat and stethoscope and goes about diagnosing everything from gingivitis to mumps and dispensing cookies.

Sounds like my kinda medicine!

But his Mom, teacher and principal just don't appreciate Doctor Ted's contributions to modern medicine and order him back to reality. I don't know what it is about us grown-ups that we're always portrayed as such sticks in the mud. We're fun! We like to play too! Just look at ex-New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer. Okay, that's probably not the kind of fun we had in mind here.

Ted wins the day, of course, after a playground incident that requires medical assistance. Kids like that sort of predictability--and seeing us grown-ups get our lumps too.

Rating: *\*\*\

Note: Other books by Beaty include Iggy Peck, Architect.

Sweet surprise

When Ruby Tried to Grow Candy
by Valerie Fisher
Schwartz & Wade

I want to be the crotchety lady next door who's really just misunderstood, and even knows a trick or two about the right way to plant jelly beans. I'm not far enough along to be the old lady in purple, but I'd settle for the middle-aged misfit who teaches an imaginative girl some unusual gardening techniques.

Ruby's wary of the rickety fence that divides her house from her reclusive neighbor, until her red ball goes over the top. Does she go after it? Why, no, she stays home and there's no story and we all go to bed. Not! Of course she goes after it, and comes face to face with Miss Wysteria, in her green wellies and floppy sunhat in a garden straight out of a '60s acid trip. Teacups grow on trees and playing cards form a shrub in these lush watercolor, ink and mixed-media renderings, where much of the background's out of focus in a happy fusion of color.

Ruby's smitten, even if Miss Wysteria's all business. When's the last time you were warned to "pick eggbeaters before a storm. Otherwise, when the wind blows, the din is deafening."

The book's title tells you what crop Ruby tends, and I'm thrilled to report there's no underlying message or moralizing whatsoever, or at least none that's obvious. Nope, this lighthearted nonsense is just pure, delicious fun.

Rating: *\*\*\   

Glumps galore

So Seth and I had  our big date last night. I managed to get the kids out the door after they refused any attempt at dinner. I drove downtown--in rush hour--and completely panicked in traffic. My husband walked straight past us, and I left a somewhat hysterical message on his cell phone as he ran out for a quick bite. I parked in an expensive garage, convinced I'd otherwise be sitting at the same intersection until the spring thaw had melted back into next winter.

Not a good start to the evening.

We were going to a party, I'd told Seth. For Shel Silverstein. His favorite poet. At least, I'm telling him it's his favorite poet, and he does seem to love Don't Bump the Glump, the cause of all the fuss. It's Silverstein's first book of poetry, issued in 1964 and recently revived by HarperCollins for its perennially fresh, funny take on made-up monsters. I was stoked, and Seth wanted cake, since all parties must have cake, right? (I tried to downplay this part, I really did.)

Little sister stayed at now-grumpy Daddy's office and mooched Thai food while the Sethster and I headed over to the Big Library With the Gargoyles in the heart of Chicago's Loop. We went up a shiny brass elevator with a uniformed operator to an enormous, marble-tiled expanse overlooking the city, the kind you usually see in museums or as sets in movies about industry titans who are up to No Good, where we got our name tags.

This was the highlight of Seth's evening. He was stunned the smiley lady knew he'd be there and had a printed name tag--when even he hadn't known himself until just hours earlier! Except for the thousand times I'd reminded him, of course. He stuck his name sticker on and beamed.

Mr. Wriggly Happy Pants was also amazed at the coat racks, which held actual people's coats, and not all of them ours. We filed into another breathtaking architectural space, with soaring ceilings and crown moldings as big as me and a sweet view south as the last streaks of sun burnished skyscraper windows.

But the swanky decor screamed "grown ups!" and I almost gasped at my total dunderheadedness. This was a book launch party, not a kid's event! D'oh. The "refreshments" were of the tuna tartare variety, and not from the sticky, fried or frosting-coated end of the food pyramid. Seth was visibly devastated.

I downed two champagne cocktails and an entire school of tuna, while Seth moaned he was starving and refused to touch even the carrots neatly tucked into shot glasses with microscopic dabs of ranch dressing.

Most of the other name tags said Chicago Public Library Foundation on them, and they wore actual grown-up Affluent Supporter of Good Causes clothes rather than my wardrobe choice of my best "fat" corduroys and comfy clogs.

But I did get to meet the fabulous Elyse Marshall of HarperCollins, who set up this ultra-classy event, and I thanked her for all she's done for us bloggers. I also swore--and this time I really meant it--that I'd get better about emailing her links to my reviews.

We watched three teenagers from a youth theatre troupe perform "The Giving Tree" and several poems from "Don't Bump the Glump," and Seth was rapt. Thank God! We skipped out after that, into the cool, drizzly night and back to Daddy's office and then home to a full refrigerator (after plenty of stern we warned yous to our famished offspring). The hubby downloaded my few photos of the event, only to discover he'd forgotten to change a manual setting on the camera and I didn't know to check and the pictures are all of the same black, amorphous blotch. Ah well.

Today Seth tucked the book into his backpack for sharing time. He's still all wriggly about it too.

Shelebrate good times

Here I am, cursing the Chicago weather, which hasn't relented much, and March still feels like December but without the cheery holiday lights. There's a silver lining to all these clouds: the library is kicking off a month-long celebration of native son Shel Silverstein's poetry.

HarperCollins invited moi to its kick-off event downtown at the city's flagship library (the one with the gargoyles) this Tuesday night, and my son is jumping out of his sneakers excited. Yep, he's coming too--no pesky little sisters allowed.

The cause for the hoopla: HarperCollins is re-releasing Don't Bump the Glump, Silverstein's first poetry collection, and the only one illustrated in color.

Look for coverage later this week, as soon as I can humanly manage it.

Here's a partial listing of related Chicago Public Library events:

Shelebrate: A Shel Silverstein Story Time North Austin Branch
5724 W. North Avenue
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
10:00 a.m.

Join the Shelebration!
Albany Park Branch
5150 N. Kimball Ave.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008 10:00 a.m.

Let’s Shelebrate Poetry!
Chinatown Branch
2353 S. Wentworth Ave.
Monday, April 07, 2008
3:00 p.m.

POETRY FRIDAY Animal Poems by Valerie Worth

Animal Poems
Written by Valerie Worth; illustrated by Steve Jenkins
Farrar, Strauss & Giroux

reviewed by Ilene Goldman

The multimedia porcupine on the front of Animal Poems is actually cuddly-looking, inviting the reader into this collection of poetry with his direct gaze and slight smile.  Each illustration begs us to turn the page to find the collage Jenkins has concocted for the next poem. A penguin with pitch black feathers waddles on homemade ice-paper; an elephant whose wrinkled skin looks like crumpled, ironed paper trundles across a page; and a fuzzy-legged spider weaves her delicate web.  You’ll look again and again.

The late Valerie Worth’s poems are as deep and resonant as the images, but not as fanciful. This is a collection of free verse, not rhyming poetry; Worth's words evoke the essence of each animal without anthropomorphizing or imparting endearing traits.

We understand the dichotomy between a bear’s sweet looks and fearsome personality: “The bear’s fur / Is gentle but / His eye is not: / It burns our /Way, while / He walks right /” We hear right away that the bear on this page is not our teddy bear, not cuddly, not the bear of countless toddlers’ tales.  We feel the snake slithering,  “Loosed / From / Limbs to / Run like / Water, /”. And we want to fly with the wren “As though a stray / Leaf, fluttering over / The Grass…”

I generally indulge in picture books for the littlest reader, my 2-year old daughter, and I’ve often wondered how a picture book for older readers might fulfill educational needs and yet not feel like it is babying the reader.  Animal Poems answered my questions.  Free verse lacks the meter or rhyme of other kinds of poetry, achieving its lyricism in precise word choice and cadenced word flow.  For a middle school reader, it is hard to access precisely because it is so different from the understood paradigm.  Combined with Jenkins’ unique illustrations, Worth’s sparse yet suggestive poems more than speak for themselves.

I had some minor qualms which may reveal my shallow understanding of the classification of the animal world:  Are snail and spiders animals or insects?  Ultimately, I suppose it doesn’t matter: All Charlotte wants to do is look at the bear and the bat. I think she’ll be trying to make cut-paper collages any minute now!

Rating: *\*\*\

This book was a Cybils finalist. Check the full list here.

S-s-s-s-s-s-Slugs!

Sally and Dave: A Slug Story
by Felice Arena
Kane/Miller Books

reviewed by Kelly Herold

Warning: Unintentional Alliteration Ahead

Sally Slug is a stuck-up gastropod mollusk, proud of her sports skills and sleek physique.  Dave Slug is more rounded, prefers "sleeping sideways in his own slime," and is fond of sweets. Felice Arena's Sally and Dave: A Slug Story is a sweet tale featuring lots of s-alliteration and a clash of sluggish personalities.

Sally's Type-A Slug finds Dave to be woefully lacking in ambition:

"'Why don't you get off your slimy slug bottom and do something special?' Sally         
sneered one day.

'But I always thought I was special,' sighed Dave. 'And I like sitting on my slimy slug bottom.'

'I've never heard anything so silly,' snapped Sally. 'It's slobs like you that give slugs a bad name.'"

The reader sympathizes with Dave who just wants to live a happy life of relaxation, food and sun. And he proves himself in the end as slackers often do, rescuing Sally when she's gobbled up by a sparrow.

Sally and Dave: A Slug Story begs to be read aloud.  Toddlers to emergent readers will enjoy hearing the hiss of the words as they stream by.  But what really makes Sally and Dave a hit are Arena's inspired illustrations.  His cartoon-like slugs are obsessed with sports, food and the good life.  Their expressive googly eyes tell a tale of friendship all their own and are fun to follow throughout Sally and Dave's epic story.

A not-to-miss read aloud for the three- to eight-year-old set.

Rating: *\*\*\

Everything but the kitchen sink

My Mommy's Tote
by P.H. Hanson
Workman Publishing

Mommy's totes are always black holes for keys, lipsticks, stray paper clips, dogearred photos and whatnot. I'm not sure that a cardboard version can compete with the real thing, but Hanson has fun with it, and at least this version doesn't leak cookie crumbs or ink.

Part board book and part toy, it comes with the standard warning about small parts, not for children under 3, etc. But the sturdy cardboard construction should withstand mauling by eager toddlers. Each "page" or fold in the tote holds items you'd typically find, like a wallet or cell phone, and some surprises, like a wounded teddy bear or stray stiletto shoe. The text heaps praise on Mommy and daughter, or provides a humorous aside:

My Mommy says 'always put your best foot forward."
Maybe that's why she has so many shoes.

Flaps open within flaps making peaking fun and keeps the surprises coming, though with all the loving plaudits for Mommy, it may feel as much like a big, slurpy kiss for Mother's Day as a treat for the kids.

Rating: *\*\*\