Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

For your budding climatologist

Explore Winter!
and Explore Spring!
both by Maxine Anderson; illustrated by Alexis Frederick-Frost

Hmmm ... what to do with that greasy old pizza box from last night. Wall art? Nah. I got it ... attach some rubber bands and make snow shoes!

Okay, maybe that's not your idea of recycling, but it sounds pretty easy, as do most of the projects in these two books from Nomad Press, which publishes science-ey workbooks and build-it-yourself stuff -- not your average mass-market sticker books, to be sure.

The pages have the same texture as a coloring book, but use comic-strip panels for storytelling. They're also chock-a-block with facts and info-boxes on animal habitats, migration patterns, nesting habits, foraging, etc. Most looked simple, using stuff already cluttering your kitchen or family room, and could be done by a supervised five-year old or independent seven-to-nine year old.

I did have to scoff, though, at that whole make-a-snowflake-outta-coffee-filters activity we now know is obsolete. But that's just me.

I realize I'm a bit overdue on the Spring book, but not to worry. All these nifty experiments and factoids will be waiting for you in six months.

In the meantime, take your kids hiking through the woods and look for signs of chewed acorns or nibbled branches. Deer! How cool.

Rating: *\*\*\

A mother-daughter-turtle thing

Turtle Summer: A Journal for my Daughter
by Mary Alice Munroe; photographs and illustrations by Barbara J. Bergwerf

Once upon a Florida summer, I got to see a sea turtle nest as the last little hatchlings were scurrying toward the water. My midnight stroll on a beach got me there just in time to see the last straggler hit the surf and vanish into the black waters. I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the shoreline, noting the nests cordoned off by wildlife officials, who posted signs with the dates and species and the usual warnings.

Reading bestselling novelist Monroe's personal account of her "turtle summer" in South Carolina with her school-age daughter brought back the wonder and giddiness I felt even as an adult. She gives us one nest's chronology, laid out to resemble a scrapbook, but with Monroe's descriptive prose and tender touch.

Bergwerf is no stranger to loggerhead turtles, the featured species, but her photography is better showcased here, with sharp close-ups of all kinds of sea critters and shore birds, but her snapshots of mother and daughter tending the nest are still artless and perfunctory. She also created charcoal sketches of local flora on flecked paper that adds a rustic touch and deepens our understanding of the area.

It's still a lovely composition, matching facts and fancy, science and story, that's well worth a vicarious visit to the idyllic isle off South Carolina, where a mother and daughter patrol the beach in the pre-dawn hours searching for loggerhead nests.

Rating: *\*\*\

Milking it for all it's worth

Mama's Milk
by Michael Elsohn Ross; illustrated by Ashley Wolff

Us gals put the Ma'am in mammals, and this book revels in the milk of human kindness--and all the other milks too. From kittens to whales and even armadillos,  mamas work miracles with our mammaries.

In simple couplets, Ross walks us through many types of mammal mamas as they do what comes naturally, interspersed with glimpses of us human critters with our hungry pups. Wolff puts us lactating ladies in soft focus with gouache illustrations that remain tasteful for all their explicitness.

I'm a little envious of bears, who get to hibernate through the whole thing, but grateful I'm not a platypus, whose puggles (!) must lick milk from patches on her belly. Wow, does that look awkward.

Oh, stop squirming. Honestly. Kids have a natural curiosity about breast feeding (I know, I'm still at it with kidlet #2) and are considerably more mature than some grown-ups. I've never had weird stares and awkward confrontations like some Mommies I know, but horror stories abound of women kicked off airplanes, even.

This book isn't going to change any minds or raise an adult consciousness, but it should satisfy kids' goofier questions with some odd factoids, like kangaroos producing pink milk. Who knew?

Rating: *\*\

A dolphin with a porpoise

Dizzy
by Stacy A. Nyikos; illustrated by Kary Lee

A few publishers have figured out my weakness for nature stories or those involving animals in their natural habitats. I've only ever lived in cities, where the wildlife happens indoors, and my natural habitat is pretty much confined to this desk. I enjoy a good jaunt outdoors if only vicariously via picture books.

One of the publishers I've adopted is Stonehorse, a newish upstart whose marine biology books blend scientific accuracy and captivating stories. Dizzy's the third effort for both publisher and author, which this time features a speedy, Pacific white-sided dolphin.

Not that I'd know any particular species of dolphin from a can of tuna, but Dizzy's a cheerful addition to the pantheon of loveable sea critters. If I'm reminded of the sharks in "Finding Nemo" who sneeringly dissed their cutesy rivals, it's only because middle age makes me cynical. I usually want to bite someone that smiley.

Fortunately, the whip-fast Dizzy gets a little less happy as he exhausts himself trying to catch up with a "fish herder" -- a sea lion who rounds up the catch of the day for the other carnivores. Along the way he learns a bit more about his friends' varied ocean habitats in cheery rhyming couplets.

This isn't one of those "and then evil humans messed everything up" story, so it feels almost a little too upbeat. A few toothy sharks would've helped. I might've liked to see Dizzy working at something more than his next meal, as Nyikos did so ably with an  earlier story about a small shark who saves the day from, well, evil humans.

Even so, kids love dolphins and we love kids, and books like this always whet the appetite for a trip to the aquarium. If you're in Chicago, catch Nyikos at the Shedd Aquarium's gift shop on May 26 from 1:30-3:30 p.m.

Rating: *\*\

Outfoxing other forest stories

Fox
by Kate Banks; illustrated by Georg Hallensleben

There are kids' books and then there's children's lit-rahtoor. What's the diff? Aspirations, methinks. There are simply some authors and artists who aim higher, at something more poetic and profound.

Such is with Banks and Hallensleben, who team up again after their lovely The Great Blue House. As in that book, Banks aims for breathy, lofty free verse, in this case about a fox cub, but it doesn't always soar as gracefully:

They wait until the sun sets,
bloated by the weight of day.

I'm not too sure about that particular image, but at least she's firmly in the realm of symbolism and allegory, a rarity in books aimed for little kids.

This new volume also shares the passing of seasons as its controlling metaphor for the life cycle, as little fox matures and learns survival skills.

But this isn't a nature book, per se. You'll learn much about fox traits, but it hardly reads like a lesson plan. Banks' verses evoke, tease, hint and sneak up on their meanings:

He hears a distant howling.
The enemy is nearby.
The little fox moves toward the sound.
"No, fox, no," says his papa.
He leads the little fox deeper into the forest,
far from danger.

And the sound comes and goes.
And the silence grows to a peaceable hum.

Eventually, of course, little fox's constant noodging--"When will I be ready?" gives way to confidence, and he shows us all the way into the wide world.

Hallensleben once again channels Van Gogh to give us a painterly forest, rich in its play of light and shadow, brimming with eye-scorching colors lathered on with coarse strokes. It looks the way the best spa lotions feel--thick and emulsified, smoothing on in delightful layers as it tingles the senses.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Geology for Droolers

An Island Grows
By Lola M. Shaefer; illustrated by Cathie Felstead

Reviewed by Deb Clark

An Island Grows cleverly employs an engagingly simple approach to explain a complex subject—how a volcanic island is created and populated—in a kid-friendly way. The story is told in rhyming couplets, which are great fun to read out loud:

Winds sow
seeds that blow.
Roots grow.
Leaves show.
Trees tower.
Vines flower.
Insects thrive.
Birds arrive.
Sailors spot.
Maps plot.

Kind of makes me want to bop along to the rhythm if I weren’t already exhausted from chasing after my toddler all day.

Simple paper collages in bold colors make for fun visuals that perfectly complement the bouncy text. The final page provides more detailed information on how volcanic islands grow—useful for those curious to know more as well as for parents who need to stretch out the bedtime story that little bit longer.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Wanted: Nest with view of skyline

The Tale of Pale Male: A True Story
By Jeanette Winter

Reviewed by Kelly Herold

The Tale of Pale Male is a gussied-up true story for the Picture Book set.  Remember Pale Male—a Red-tailed hawk—and his Fifth Avenue perch? (Mary Tyler Moore lives in his building.) Remember how Pale Male brought his gal pal Lola to his favorite spot and they built a nest? Remember the birdwatchers down below and the momentous birth of two “hungry chicks”? 

Pale Male and Lola set off a media storm when they build their huge nest and begin circling the skies of Manhattan. People lined the street to watch the birds fly and the chicks hatch. Winter chronicles their story and their abrupt eviction from 927 Fifth Avenue when downstairs neighbors complain of the “evidence of Lola’s meals” falling on “to the balcony below.” (Note: Winter includes only bones, leaves, and twigs in this “evidence.”) Media and public outrage follow culminating in the restoration of Pale Male’s home.

Winter successfully combines two stories in The Tale of Pale Male. On the one hand it’s the story of people standing up for nature even in the heart of Manhattan. On the other hand, it's a nature story--we learn how Red-tail hawks build nests, what they eat, and how they live.

Winter’s pallette of grays, purples, and teals beautifully suits Pale Male’s city life, especially when contrasted with the opening pages illustrated in the greens, blues and browns of a Red-tailed hawk’s life in nature. An “author’s note” at the end of the book gives us the straight story.

The Tale of Pale Male is best suited for readers ages four to eight. School-aged children in kindergarten through second grade will especially like The Tale of Pale Male at story time. Its dual story line will appeal to city slickers and nature lovers alike.

Rating: *\*\*\

A 'Seed' that takes root in your heart

A Seed is Sleepy
By Dianna Hutts Aston, illustrated by Sylvia Long

Reviewed by Kelly Herold

Sometimes a book is so lovely, it is difficult to review. You just want to throw a bunch of words out, like, “stunning,” “superb,” “gorgeous,” and “accomplished.”  There.  I’m done. No? Okay, then, on with the review.

Dianna Hutts Aston and Sylvia Long team up again after their Cybils Non-Fiction Award-winning An Egg is Quiet.  Now I know what all the fuss is about.  Aston takes a non-fiction topic and turns it into a lyrical work of genius.  In A Seed is Sleepy the seed is the topic du jour.  Now we’ve all read a non-fiction title or two about seeds.  But Aston’s genius is taking the mundane and making it beautiful.  Take the opening page, for example:

A seed is sleepy.

It lies there, tucked inside its flower,
or its cone, or beneath the soil. Snug. Still.

Rendered in open, easy-to-read cursive, these lines are pure poetry and set the frame for the book.  Each double-page spread begins with a similar seed statement and Dianna Hutts Aston’s choices are always unexpected.  My favorite is “A seed is inventive” and is followed by:

To find a spot to grow,
A seed might leap from its pod,
[violet]
or cling to a
child’s shoestring,
[cocklebur]
or tumble through
a bear’s belly.
[Red huckleberry]
A seed hopes to land where
there is plenty of
sunlight, soil, and water.

Sylvia Long’s ink and watercolor illustrations are worthy of any nineteenth-century illustrated nature classic.  Full color and lush, you want to snip each one out and make a gorgeous collage until you remember you’d destroy this amazing book.

A Seed is Sleepy will be enjoyed by children of all ages and all tastes.  The story fan will appreciate Aston’s way with words, while the non-fiction freak will relish the information presented.  And the best news?  Parents won’t be bored reading this one aloud, either.

Starstruck, maybe.  But never bored.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

The author and illustrator previously won a 2006 Cybils for Best Non-Fiction Picture Book.

An Environmental Education

Almost Gone
by Steve Jenkins

Reviewed by Deb Clark

In with the obligatory segments on California missions and multiplication tables, my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Guthrie, devoted a chunk of time to studying endangered animals. I was dumbfounded to learn an animal could vanish from the planet as a direct result of human action. I admit I shed a few tears for the dodo.

And I vowed to become a park ranger and live in one of those shacks up on super-high stilts in the middle of the wilderness, which might actually have been a good job choice for me if I weren’t absolutely petrified of heights.

Almost Gone is a book my fourth-grade self would have cherished. A series of endangered animals are introduced by a paragraph of information that includes where the creature can be found and how many remain. It’s sad to note that the Abington Island tortoise of the Galapagos Islands, with only one left, will likely soon qualify for the section titled Gone Forever.

The book ends on a high note, listing three animals whose numbers are stepping back from the brink of extinction. And there is an excellent introduction that clearly explains what effect the loss of even one small creature can have on our ecosystem.

The brief entries on each animal are packed with interesting information, but it’s the illustrations that are truly fascinating. Hand-painted, cut-paper collage images of each beast are so scrupulously detailed that I half expect them to move. They captivate my children, who study them with an intensity that leads to all sorts of questions about the animals and their situations.

I’ve already decided that if either of my daughters someday works in one of those wilderness lookout shacks, I’ll just have to climb the darn ladder to see them.

Rating: *\*\*\

Who's Your Mama!

Owen & Mzee: The True Story of a Remarkable Friendship
by Isabella Hatkoff, Craig Hatkoff and Dr. Paula Kahumbu; Illustrated by Peter Greste

Mama: A True Story in Which a Baby Hippo Loses his Mama During a Tsunami, but Finds a New Home, And a New Mama
By Jeanette Winter

Reviewed by Deb Clark

I was never so afraid of dying until I became a mother. I’m not scared for myself, but I am abjectly terrified of who will take care of my children if I’m not around.

My fears would abate—although I’d also be kind of bummed—if replacing a mother were as easy as in Owen & Mzee and Mama. Both books tell the compelling and true tale of a baby hippo who loses his mom in the wake of the devastating 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. After washing ashore, Owen the hippo was taken to a Kenyan wildlife preserve where he formed an immediate and surprising attachment to Mzee, a cranky 130-year-old male giant tortoise. After his initial disinterest, Mzee embraced his role as surrogate hippo mama.

Owen & Mzee is the brainchild of 6-year-old Isabella Hatkoff, who read a newspaper account of the Owen’s story and convinced her father to help her write a book about it, which they did with the assistance of naturalist Dr. Paula Kahumbu. The book’s photos were provided by BBC photojournalist Peter Greste.

Mama chronicles the same events using only the words Mama and Baby. The glowing acrylic illustrations powerfully carry the tale, showing Owen’s peaceful life with his mother, their terror at the huge wave that separates them, and Owen’s rescue and pairing with Mzee. This simplistic approach is much more effective at conveying both the awesome power of the tsunami and Owen’s tragic sense of loss at the disappearance of his mother.

While the text is at times flat and some photos are weak, Owen & Mzee is an appealing book that conveys in clear, easily understood language a charming tale. Mama is the more powerful telling, but this intensity could make the book frightening and confusing for young children.

Ultimately, the real attraction of both these books is the remarkable story of how one baby hippo lost his mother and found another.

Rating: *\*\