Tag Archives: Ben Clanton

Book Reviews: April 2017 Picture Book Roundup: Lessons, Playtime, and Older Stories Made New

Standard

The Lessons Learnt

 Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order, summary, reviews, trailer, educators' kit,and author's and illustrator's bios.

Raisin, the Littlest Cow by Miriam Busch and illustrated by Larry Day. Balzer + Bray-HarperCollins, 2017. Intended audience: Ages 4-8.

Raisin is the littlest cow in the herd and is nuzzled and cooed over by the other cows. She likes the color brown and movies and especially dislikes change. But change always comes. Her mother has another little cow, a little brother for Raisin, and Raisin does not like her little brother or that her little brother is now the one being cooed over and nuzzled and that the attention that he is garnering means that no one but Raisin remembers movie night, so no one is there to help her see over the fence. She helps herself, but the day keeps getting worse. There’s rain. There’s thunder. The movie is canceled, and her brother is wailing almost as loud as the thunder. Raisin and her brother bond over their mutual dislike of thunder and over his brown eyes, which are her favorite color. She makes him giggle by dripping on him then by showering him with a shaking her coat, calming him when no one else can do. I imagine this book would be helpful for a child dealing with jealousy of the attention given to a newborn sibling, to see their feelings validated, reflected. With humor snuck into the text and illustrations, the message, the promise that a new sibling can be a friend and not a reason to run away to Jupiter nevertheless seemed a little too prominent, a little heavy-handed. I’m not sure what made the message seem so heavy-handed, since Busch never stated her intention outright. Perhaps it’s simply that I’m not Busch’s target audience.

****

Click to visit the publisher's site for links to order, summary, sample, reviews, and author's bio.

Dad and the Dinosaur by Gennifer Choldenko and illustrated by Dan Santat. G. P. Putnam & Son’s-Penguin Random, 2017.  Intended audience: Ages 5-8.

Gennifer Choldenko is probably best known for her middle-grade historical fiction novels, most notably perhaps her series that begins with Al Capone Does My Shirts. This picture book is about an active, sports-involved boy who is bolder in the presence of his toy dinosaur—the dinosaur very wonderfully illustrated by Santat, his translucent image truly imposing. Overall I liked the writing, but I disliked that the husband brushes off his wife by saying they are going out for “guy stuff” as the book nears its end. As a woman I felt like I was being cut out of the story. It was something I didn’t and don’t expect from another woman—though I know we can be as guilty of sexism against women as men can be. This seems particularly jarring after the mother has been so physically present throughout the book and the boy’s father so obviously absent, hearing about his activities after the fact from the mom. That too is why, though, the dad’s compassion, his acceptance of his son’s coping mechanism is so particularly touching. The lesson could have been far more heavy-handed than it is. The father could have chosen to be the “adult” and deny the boy’s need for his dinosaur. I’m glad that he did not, even as I’m glad that he does state baldly that it’s okay to be scared and that he too gets scared sometimes. Normalizing fear and normalizing coping mechanisms for fear are needed. Normalizing sexism and strict adherence to gender roles and stereotypes are some things that I would like to see less.

***

Interactive Books

 Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order and summary.

Don’t Touch This Book! by Bill Cotter. Jabberwocky-Sourcebooks, 2016.

I had the great pleasure of having this book read to me during one of my twice-weekly story times. It’s a wonderfully interactive book—and I like it so much more than the previous book by Cotter, Don’t Touch the Button! Don’t Touch the Button! and Hervé Tullet’s books too ask the reader to interact with the page of the book. Don’t Touch This Book! begins that way. Larry (the protagonist) tells the reader not to touch the book, then allows the reader to use just one finger, then to use all their fingers when he appreciates the reaction of the book to the reader’s action. Quickly though this book asks the reader to do all manner of ridiculous things that many readers at story times ask of their listeners anyways that are more physical than merely pressing a particular spot on a page or shaking the book: flap your arms like the wings of a flying bird, roar like a dinosaur, spin around…. The readers’ acts precipitate the responses of the book. Roaring like a dinosaur causes a T-rex to appear on the following page. Flapping your arms causes the monster protagonist to sprout wings to be able to escape the T-rex. This will almost certainly join the repertoire of story time books that I keep in mind when I need to wear out my too rowdy crowd. It may supersede some of the others. I’m very glad my story time visitor chose this book to read to me.

*****

Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order, summary, sample pages, awards list, and author's bio. 

Dinosaur Dance! by Sandra Boynton. Little Simon-Simon & Schuster, 2016.  Intended audience: Ages 1-5.

This book is a simple dance-along book featuring dinosaurs. Each dinosaur—named primarily by species—does a particular step of a dance. T-rex goes STOMP STOMP STOMP, The red Brontosaurus goes QUIVERY QUAKE. There’s a little dinosaur no one can identify who both cha-chas and goes DEEDLY DEE. I appreciate that there is an animal that no one can identify, especially in what could be considered a primer; too infrequently are toddlers told that it’s okay not to know. Of course all of the text rhymes. I was reminded of Van Fleet’s recent book Dance, which sets itself apart with its pull tabs, though I think that I prefer the text here. There’s more sense in this that the reader is a caller than there is in Tony Mitton’s Dinosaurumpus! but not as much as can be found in Boynton’s better-known Barnyard Dance; Barnyard Dance has very much a square dance rhythm to it. For its more imaginative and open-ended dance moves, I may like this one even better than Barnyard Dance. Plus, dinosaur primers are harder to find than a barnyard primers, and this book is able to do more with color than does Barnyard Dance.

****

Retellings

Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order, summary, sample pages, reviews, music video, activity sheets, and author's bio. 

We Are the Dinosaurs by Laurie Berkner and illustrated by Ben Clanton. Simon & Schuster 2017.  Intended audience: Ages 4-8.

This book takes the text of Laurie Berkner’s song and adds more of a story to it with its illustrations and asides. I read the story before finding the song. The song talks about dinosaurs broadly. The picture book narrows the story a group of friends—different types of dinosaurs—who adventure towards the top of a volcano—and run away from the rumbling mountain and back to their parents to revel in their bravery and adventure. Ben Clanton’s bright, cartoony dinosaurs are memorable but I didn’t discern much personality from any of the dinosaurs, which was a bit disappointing.

***

 Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order, summary, sample, reviews, videos, educators' resources, and author's and illustrator's bios.

The Legend of Rock Paper Scissors by Drew Daywalt and illustrated by Adam Rex. Balzer + Bray-HarperCollins, 2017. Intended audience: Ages 4-8.

Drew Daywalt gained his fame with The Day the Crayons Quit and The Day the Crayons Came Home, both done in conjunction with Oliver Jeffers. His latest book continues to focus on art supplies and children’s play. He invents a story behind the popular Rock, Paper, Scissors game. There are three great warriors from three different kingdoms around a home. Each has fought the warriors that exist in their own kingdoms, and none are satisfied with their competition or their victories. They each go on a quest for fulfillment and a meaningful victory—and discover joy in fighting one another. This story wasn’t beloved, it didn’t seem, of my audience for story time (in the interest of full-disclosure, my audience was three girls, and they were older, maybe 6-9; I suspect this book would go over better with the boys who come in looking for books on WWE and the ones who build guns out of Legos at our events; the whole plot of the book is battles and fighting and the dialogue is primarily traded boasts of one’s own prowess and colorful insults). I perhaps could have hammed up the text a little more than I did, but I did ham it up some. It’s hard not to do so when I’m provided lines like

rovlta9

and pages like

Paper became my favorite warrior for his bemused reactions to the aggressions of the other two in their first three-way battle and his frightful “fighting words”: “Hi there.” I greatly enjoyed that Daywalt chose to make Scissors a master swordswoman with painted-red lips. This could easily and in another decade likely would have been a book without any female representation. I enjoyed the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets particularly too. What a nod to children’s play. But ultimately that I enjoyed it more than girls in the target age-range makes me like the book less.

***

Click to visit the publisher's page for links to order and summary.

Beauty and the Beast adapted by Cynthia Rylant and illustrated by Meg Park. Hyperion-Disney, 2017.  Intended audience: Ages 3-5.

I thought because this was marketed (at least by Barnes & Noble) with all of the books and merchandise for the new live-action Disney remake of its animated film by the same name that this story would follow the Disney story, but instead Rylant stayed nearer the Perrault version of the story and devoid of any talking furniture. Beauty (not Belle) is the youngest of three sisters and her father is a merchant whose fortune is lost at sea. Her older sisters when the father’s ships are recovered want emerald necklaces, but Beauty wants only a rose. On the way back to home from port, the father is caught in a storm and shelters in a castle that seems deserted except that a feast is laid out for him. On his way from the castle, he spots a rose in the garden and remembers his youngest’s wish. As payment for the rose, the Beast, master of the castle, demands the father’s enslavement but allows him to return first to his family to say goodbye. Beauty demands to go to the Beast in her father’s stead. The Beast gives Beauty endless days of leisure, fine clothes, wonderful food. He reads poetry to her by the fire at night. And every day he asks if she is happy. One day he asks her to marry him, and she refuses. The Beast accepts her answer. She returns to her father to care for him in illness, then returns when she dreams that the Beast is dying. Her realization that she loved the Beast restores him to his human form: a man with darker skin than Belle’s.

IMG_1107

Meg Park, who I’ve admired from a distance for some time for her softness, bright, jewel-like colors, and expressive characters, makes nods to the Disney cartoon in her illustrations: The Beast has the same basic shape, though he is perhaps more wolfish, Beauty’s design is close to Belle’s, though her hair is more auburn and her outfit more seafoam green than sky blue. Beauty’s horse is a palomino but not a Belgian Draft. In these ways and more she deliberately strays from the Disney retelling but harkens to it enough to highlight that both stories use Perrault as the basis for their tale.

I really enjoyed introducing young enthusiasts to a retelling nearer the Disney version.

*****

These reviews are not endorsed by any of the authors or publishers or anyone else involved in the making of these books.  They are independent, honest reviews by a reader.

Photos of the books’ interiors are all mine.  I borrowed the meme.

Advertisements

Book Reviews: July 2016 Picture Book Roundup: Part 2: Pets, Beaches, Bedtimes, Time, and an Italian witch

Standard

Books About Pets

9781492609353Too Many Moose by Lisa Bakos and illustrated by Mark Chambers. Jabberwocky-Sourcebooks, 2016.

The alliterations and rhyme scheme of this book make it. What a silly story. Martha wants a pet, but what pet to get? Ultimately she decides that she wants a moose, and she gets online, and orders one. Having one moose is so wonderful that she orders more and more and more. But when her moose run amok she decides that maybe one moose is just enough. The illustrations are funny and colorful—with expressive moose in every shade of brown.

****

it-came-in-the-mail-9781481403603_hrIt Came in the Mail by Ben Clanton. Simon & Schuster, 2016.  Intended audience: Ages 4-8, Grades PreK-3.

A little boy who likes mail but never gets any writes a letter to his mailbox requesting something big, and the mailbox delivers a dragon! And then when he requests more, the mailbox delivers more—more than he can possibly use or enjoy or keep. So he uses the mailbox to send away most of what the mailbox has gifted him—but he keeps the dragon and he keeps a pegasus for his best friend, an African American boy named Jamel, so that they can fly together. This is a fairly simple story with a fairly simple message: that receiving is fun, but giving can feel better. There’s a lot to laugh at in the text and in the illustrations.

****

9780399161032This Moose Belongs to Me by Oliver Jeffers. Philomel-Penguin Random, 2012.  Intended audience: Ages 3-7.

I read and reviewed this book on Goodreads sometime in late 2012, but it never made it onto the blog here. It was then and remains the books that launched my love for Oliver Jeffers, who is a talented, talented man, whose picture books—or some of them—don’t shy away from the hard truths of life, which he always handles with the utmost tenderness and subtlety. This book of his is sillier. Wilfred meets a moose in a wonderfully detailed and soaring wilderness—something the Hudson River School would have applauded—and decides that this moose is his. He even makes it a little nametag so that everyone will know. The illustrations are all peppered with clever and humorous details that should clash with the grand landscape—and maybe do a little, but that’s part of the picture book’s charm. There are rules—all penned out in a childish hand—that the moose is very good at following, and ones that he needs to practice, but their friendship grows. Until an old woman comes along and insists that this is her moose. She even tempts Marcel—whom she calls Rodrigo—away with an apple. Deprived of his moose, Wilfred finds himself in trouble, tangled in string in the middle of nowhere with the dark and the monsters coming. But that’s when his moose returns, and proves himself still Wilfred’s friend. So Wilfred realizes that friendship is compromise and not ownership.

****

9780374301859A Unicorn Named Sparkle by Amy Young. Farrar, Straus, and Giroux-Macmillan, 2016.  Intended audience: Ages 2-6.

A little girl buys a unicorn for 25¢ and anxiously awaits its arrival, dreaming of riding him along rainbows with a necklace of flowers on his blue neck. What arrives is a goat with a single horn. He’s smelly. He’s not blue. He has fleas! He eats his flower necklace and his tutu. Lucy tries to defend her unicorn at first from those who say he’s just a goat, but eventually she calls to return the unicorn, but once he’s in the truck and bleating for her, she changes her mind, and realizes that she has grown to love Sparkle even though he is not what she was expecting. Lucy appears to be African American, making me love her even more because there is never once any issue made of her race and we need more books about African Americans where race is not an issue. I like this protagonist so much more than the Barbie from Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Brigette Barrager’s Uni the Unicorn.

****

Nighttime Reads

9ff19e062c2560bf352a6e3fe2e4cc70The Dark by Lemony Snicket and illustrated by Jon Klassen. Little Brown Kids-Hachette, 2013.

I reviewed The Dark in April 2013. I’d mostly avoided reading it again, having then not been impressed, and in fact been a bit disturbed by the book. This time around—when an engaged child at story time requested creepy stories—I was not immediately struck by that same unease (though in rereading my previous review, I did find myself agreeing with my younger self). Still, because I was so much less vehemently opposed to this book during this second reading, it seemed fair to give it a second review.

This time, I saw the Dark as more comforting, as empowering Laszlo to defeat his fear of the Dark by showing him that he—the Dark—is friendly, really, and not the frightening monster that Laszlo imagines. Maybe I saw the dark as more of a concept and less of a character. Taking away the Dark’s personhood makes this book much less disturbing.

So now I sit sort of on the fence about this book. Do I like the Dark? Am I worried for the Dark? Is his action more friendly or is it a dangerous depiction of self-harm and self-deprecation? I’m really not sure.

There are other, better books about overcoming a fear of the dark—Emma Yarlett’s Orion and the Dark is pretty wonderful and has the same message without any of the self-harm—and I think I will stick to recommending those, but perhaps I will not so actively avoid this one.

**

9780307976635Hush, Little Horsie by Jane Yolen and illustrated by Ruth Sanderson. Penguin Random, 2010.  Intended audience: Ages 2-5.

This was a sort of disappointing read from Yolen because there just wasn’t a lot of substance, but Sanderson, who has illustrated many horse stories before including the cover art for many of Walter Farley’s and the Horse Diaries series, didn’t disappoint. The lullaby of sorts involves four mares reassuring their foals that they will be watching them as they gallop, leap, and sleep. It ends with a human mother reassuring her daughter that she will be here as she sleeps with horses chasing themselves through her mind. As an adult as I suspect a horse-loving child, I do and would have prickled at the term “horsie” as I do at Marguerite Henry’s incorrect use of “colt,” but I think that puts me in a nitpicky minority.

**

Wibbly-Wobbly Timey-Wimey

y648Waiting by Kevin Henkes. Greenwillow-HarperCollins, 2015.  Intended audience: Ages 4-8.

This was one of the Caldecott honorees for 2016. Several toys sit on a windowsill. All of them are waiting, waiting for different things—for rain to be able to use an umbrella, for snow to be able to use a sled, for wind for a kite, for the moon to rise. The beginning—the character set-up—is mostly simple, relaxing, beautifully illustrated, particularly in the four illustrations that don’t share the page with any text and which show the passage of time—though time doesn’t really seem to have much affect on the characters. Then there is an inciting incident, and it hits suddenly. A new character—a cat toy—is introduced. What is she waiting for? The implication is that she was waiting for kittens—she is herself a nesting doll, and the kittens appear from inside her. There are some weird illustrations of death in a fancy toy elephant that falls and shatters (“He stayed a while then he left and never returned”) and in the birth of kittens via nesting doll. That the death occurs with so little comment and so little conflict or emotion is… odd. I’m honestly not sure what to make of the text of this book. It’s nice to read, but I don’t quite know what I’ve done but passed the time. The illustrations are lovely; I concede that point for sure, but I’m not sure I would rank them among the most heavy-hitting and innovative and memorable of the year (where are Curato, Parra, Jeffers?).

Henkes you may know from Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse or Chrysanthemum.

***

29433570Are We There Yet? by Nina Laden and illustrated by Adam McCauley. Chronicle, 2016.  Intended audience: Ages 4-6.

This book has very little text, primarily being a repetition of “Are we there yet?” and “No,” but the illustrations are vibrant, detailed, carrying their own narrative with repeated characters across pages, and really carrying the narrative too. On a drive to visit grandparents, the characters start out traversing ordinary settings, which become increasingly extraordinary through the inclusion of extraordinary details. Their journey takes them even to extraterrestrial vistas. The journey ends with the greeting of grandparents who must themselves be pretty extraordinary if their decorating tastes illustrate anything and the assertion that the drive was “boring.” The parents and children at story time enjoyed as I did looking for the extraordinary details in the illustrations. This book earns almost all of its stars through its illustrations, which might be another Caldecott contender. Sadly for McCauley, Santat—already a Caldecott winner—wrote a very similar picture book with the same title this same year with less reliance on the illustrations to carry the tale but more innovative inclusion of illustrations, so I doubt that this story will get a nod.

****

Books for the Beach

9780448496399Llama Llama Sand and Sun by Anna Dewdney. Grosset & Dunlap-Penguin Random, 2015. Intended audience: Ages 3-5.

I think this is the only board book that I read this whole month. Written with Dewdney’s charm and rhyme and meter, Llama Llama goes to enjoy the beach in this touch-and-feel book. The touch-and-feel elements are not guided, but still make the book more interactive than an ordinary picture book. The text of the story was really quite enjoyable, simple but, well, charming.

***

y648-1Hello, My Name is Octicorn by Kevin Diller and Justin Lowe with illustrations by Binny Talib. Balzer + Bray-HarperCollins, 2016. First published 2013.  Intended audience: Ages 4-8.

This was a surprising success, possibly partially because the craft and costume were so fun (I turned party hats inside out and we made our own horns so Octi would feel less alone). Life is hard for an octicorn. He doesn’t fit in with either the unicorns or the octopi. Because Octi doesn’t fit in, he doesn’t get invited to a lot of parties, but there are a lot of things that Octi (and other octicorns) is good at: ring toss, dancing, watersports, juggling, hugging. “I know I look different than everyone else, but that’s okay because in the end, we all want the same things: cupcakes, friends, and a jet ski.” The one squirmy moment I had was when Octi is wondering how his parents met. (Was it a costume party? A personal ad?) I think the book actually gained a few points because it was a direct plea to the audience for friendship; the “aw” factor came into play, plus the book ends with a direct call for reaction. For a book born of a doodle, this was really quite wonderful.

****

0763655996This is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen. Candlewick, 2012.  Intended audience: Ages 4-8, Grades PreK-3.

This is another book that I first read and reviewed on Goodreads in 2013, but the review never migrated to this blog, so now I get a second go. My feelings toward this book, 2013’s Caldecott winner, really haven’t changed much since then.

This is a dark little book.  A tiny fish steals a hat from a BIG fish.  The little fish swims away with it.  He knows he’s done wrong, but he tries to convince himself otherwise.  The big fish will not find him.  He will not know who took the hat.  The big fish wakes up.  He is suspicious.  He tracks down the little fish.  He follows him into some kelp.  Only the big fish emerges, and he has the hat, and looks quite pleased with himself.  Most of the story is told through illustration more than it is through text.  The text is the little fish’s inner monologue.  It’s dark for a picture book but moralistic.  Almost… Grimm.  A very Grimm book in all dark colors with simple but expressive illustrations and an ambiguous end that possibly implies the death of the POV character.

***

Something Different

2976324Brava, Strega Nona! by Tomie dePaola and illustrated by Matthew Reinhart with pop-ups by Robert Sabuda. G. P. Putnam & Sons-Penguin, 2008.

Robert Sabuda is the king of pop-up, and I had never seen one of his books so well preserved (this one was in the library rather than in the bookstore) so that even the water in the fountain turns and the fountain is still attached to the page nor have I ever felt so free to really explore one of Sabuda’s masterpieces knowing that this copy was meant to be explored and not meant to be purchased. There’s not a whole lot of story here. There are a few Italian words—famiglia, amore, mangia, amici, celebrazione—translated and then their place in Strega Nona’s life explained just briefly: her family tree and her family history, her Grandma (Nonna) Concetta the strega who taught her magic; the love that is the secret to her recipes; the friends she sees all over town; the food she share with friends and family; the village celebrations of which she likes to be in the middle. This story means more to me as someone whose family is Italian; these are words that have peppered my life too. The value of this book is in the bit of Italian language that it teaches and in the pure wonder of Sabuda’s pop-ups.

****

These reviews are not endorsed by any of the authors or publishers or anyone else involved in the making of these books.  They are independent, honest reviews by a reader.

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save