Yummy by Lucy Cousins

Yummy by Lucy Cousins

Food is central to our lives, our pleasures, and apparently our fairy tales!  In Yummy:  Eight Favorite Fairy Tales, Lucy Cousins’ lends her cheerful, bold artistry to traditional stories that, upon further reflection, do indeed focus on food.   She vividly depicts food that is savored and gobbled, well earned and stolen, vegetarian and fully carnivorous.  Meals serve as a celebration of moral instruction (e.g., The Little Red Hen does not share the fruit of her labors with her lazy friends) and the triumph of good characters over villains (e.g., the Bremen Town Musicians vanquish the robbers).

Four of the eight tales feature some degree of peril and Cousins never sanitizes the predation and menace of these time-honored fairy tales.   Disney’s Little Mermaid might have escaped the sea foam fate of Anderson’s original plot but Cousins does not spare two of the Three Little Pigs from the jaws of a voracious wolf.   Although her art and spare text gear her book towards younger children, Cousins does not shy away from the original sad fates of her traditional characters.  “Hee hee hee” reads the banner across the top of the page as “CRUNCH!  MUNCH! Foxy Woxy gobbled up Goosey Poosey” and friends in the tale of  “Henny Penny.”   Happily, the chicken heroine escapes the fate of her friends as she runs home as fast as she can.  Her text is simple, rhythmic, and accessible for preschoolers and young elementary students.

Cousins is fearless in her retelling of these tales.  In "Little Red Riding Hood," is the wolf smiling gleefully as he swallows Grandmother whole?  Why, yes, indeed he is.  In Cousins’ painting, Grandmother’s feet and nightdress protrude prominently from the wolf’s smiling mouth and the artist adds “gulp!” in large black font next to the victim’s splayed white toes.  A few pages later, she repeats this graphic technique, embellishing the wolf’s decapitation with the bold proclamation of “chop!”  The wolf’s death is portrayed as bloodless but it is still a jolt to see an axe hovering above the wolf’s body while Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother celebrate on the opposite page beneath the wolf’s flying head. 

According to Barnes and Noble and Amazon, British author-illustrator Lucy Cousins has published more than 300 books.  Her Maisy the Mouse series is ubiquitous on preschool bookshelves and in family libraries.  Personally, I have never been an avid fan of Cousins’ art.  While I am drawn to her bold palette and joyful tone, I have not been attracted to her simplistic black outlines and primitive style.  However in this particular book, Yummy‘s charming and childishly-rendered art seems to lower the emotional load of these clearly gruesome stories.  Cousins repackages the often-fearful villains in a vibrant, colorful, and naïve manner.  In so doing, she successfully declaws these villains and focuses on the fantasy aspect of the story and the ultimate triumph of the heroes and heroines.  Hungry wolves eventually end up in the stewpot and Goldilocks finally leaves the Three Bears to enjoy their porridge in peace.  The stories always end well for the main characters.
   

Parents of young Maisy fans might find Yummy to be a palatable means to introduce their young children to traditional fairy tales.  Turnips, porridge, and even a huffing-puffing wolf are all served up in this tasty collection of stories.  Dig in!

Wabi Sabi by Mark Reibstein, Illustrated by Ed Young

Wabi Sabi by Mark Reibstein is a strikingly beautiful picture book that addresses a fundamental tenet in Japanese culture.  A Kyoto house cat is called wabi sabi after the Japanese aesthetic ideal of the same name.  On the title page, Reibstein defines wabi sabi as “a way of seeing the world that is at the heart of Japanese culture.  It finds beauty and harmony in what is simple, imperfect, natural, modest, and mysterious.  It can be a little dark, but it is also warm and comfortable.  It may best be understood as a feeling, rather than as an idea.”

Wabi Sabi, the cat, sets out through the streets of Kyoto in a quest to discover the meaning of her name.  She travels across an urban landscape and enters a wooded park where she discusses the meaning of wabi sabi with a wise monkey.   At a prominent Kyoto shrine, Wabi Sabi “ found the place to be very beautiful – in a wabi sabi kind of way.  Although the buildings and gardens were shaped by humans, they were neither fancy nor grand.”  In the end, the cat returns to the simple straw mat of her kitchen, content and warm.

This ambitious text is uneven.  The inclusion of haiku into the narrative flow is occasionally successful.  When the cat receives a cup of tea, she feels
“A warm heavy bowl
comfortable as an old friend –
not fine, smooth china.”
However, I find that the prose is generally disrupted by the clumsy inclusion of haiku that does not deepen or forward the text.  In addition, to my ear, even when eliminating most of the jarring haiku, the text itself is not smooth and might not be appropriate as a read-aloud.  Finally, I am somewhat confused about the potential audience for the upper level content of the story.  Unless they have an existing cultural grounding and understanding of wabi sabi, younger children might indeed remain unclear about this aesthetic ideal.  Reibstein makes allusions to the wabi sabi definition rather than offering explicit explanation.  I strongly disagree with the Barnes and Noble age range notation that this challenging book is targeted for infants (!) or children in preschool.  Older children will find more enjoyment and comprehension in this text.

With this caveat on the narrative content of the book, I heartily recommend Wabi Sabi for its phenomenal art.  Ed Young has created another glorious chapter in his magnificent portfolio of children’s illustrations and the publisher has augmented Young’s art with Japanese kanji haikus and chop style formats for the author and illustrator credits.  Illustrator of more than eighty books, Young won the Caldecott Medal for Lon Po Po in 1989 and has twice received Caldecott Honors for Seven Blind Mice and Yeh Shen.  Wabi Sabi has reaped numerous honors including recognition by the American Library Association and the New York Times Book Review as a notable children’s book. 

In homage to Asian scrolls and literary norms, Young’s marvelous collages are oriented vertically.  Using a broad range of found and natural materials from his home, Young creates a rich, textured, three-dimensional quality to his illustrations.  The result is impactful and engaging.  The work is an amazing accomplishment considering the fact that Young completed this assignment under a short deadline after his initial two-year project of Wabi Sabi illustrations disappeared!  Young had already discarded his original, high-quality and purpose-selected art materials, so he “decided to use wabi sabi materials” and ferreted out resources as varied as dryer lint and corn husks to create his magnificent art.
http://howtobeachildrensbookillustrator.wordpress.com/2008/11/17/the-breathtaking-collages-of-ed-young-in-wabi-sabi-2/

All the World by Liz Garton Scanlon

All the World by Liz Garton Scanlon, Illustrations by Marla Frazee


Need a vicarious vacation?  How about a beach outing on a breezy weekend day?  The smooth poetic rhythms and panoramic images of All the World by Liz Garton Scanlon channel relaxation and ease.  This lovely book seems a natural choice for a quiet interlude or bedtime cuddle.  Although filled with activity and companionship, the text projects a steady reassuring tone and the illustrations depict warm interactions between family and friends over the course of a summer day.

Drawing upon a laundry list of selections from recent New York Times’ recommendations, I was initially attracted to All the World by Marla Frazee’s striking cover illustration.  Two young children are viewed from behind, highlighted against a background of a towering cumulus cloud as they stand on a sand dune overlooking the sea.  Awarded her second Caldecott Honor for All The World, Frazee features a multicultural cast of characters in her sweeping artwork including a relatively rare portrait of an interracial family.  The illustrations alternate between vast natural vistas and intimate family scenes and provide great opportunities for interaction with the reader.  Is family from the beach at the market?  Has the man with the wagon joined the gathering at the fountain?  Have the bicyclists arrived at the restaurant and house?  Frazee does a particularly effective job in conveying the descending darkness, the routines of a closing day, and the cozy connections that define human relationships.  Her paintings of hugging parents, a mother nursing a baby (while studying textbooks), and a father nuzzling his infant pair perfectly with the last pages of text: 
“All the world is everything
Everything is you and me.”

Ultimately, the poetic text clinched my decision to tuck Scanlon’s picture book into my bag and take it home.  All the World is a natural read aloud.  It has the rhythm and refrain of a classic: 
“… All the world is wide and deep.
…  All the world is old and new.
…  All the world has got its sky.”

Scanlon’s words roll out like a long-loved lullaby.  I can imagine making this assured and lyrical book a cornerstone of a bedtime routine.  When shared with a sleepy child, the poem is an enticement to put away the cares of the day and relax into the comfort of soft pillows and a warm bed:
“Spreading shadows,
setting sun.
Crickets, curtains, day is done
A fire takes away the chill
All the world can hold quite still”

The book concludes …
…Hope and peace and love and trust
All the world is all of us.”

For me, the mood created by the modulation and sounds of these words is reminiscent of some of our family’s favorite bedtime selections including Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon and Sandra Boynton’s The Going to Bed Book.  I can envision this charming and beautiful book as a natural addition to that select list of beloved books read just before a precious kiss goodnight.  All the World is a true gem.

Red Sings from Treetops: A Year in Colors by Joyce Sidman

Red Sings from Treetops: A Year in Colors by Joyce Sidman, illustrations by Pamela Zagarenski

Well-worn topics in children’s picture books - colors and seasons - find new life in Red Sings from Treetops: A Year in Colors by Joyce Sidman. Paired with Pamela Zagarenski’s glorious illustrations, the colors of the seasons leap off the page in a festival of vivid language that stretch the mind and stimulate the senses.


Sidman’s poetic language dares you to sense and see color and objects.

“Red swells
on branches bent low.
Red: crisp, juicy,
crunch!”

Did you envision apples? Throughout this delightful book, the author substitutes a color name for an object. For example, snow becomes “white” in the winter section.


“White whispers
f
 l
  o
   a
    t
     s
clumps
traces its wet finger on branches and stumps.
White dazzles day
and turns night
inside out.”

This technique transforms the poem into a guessing game and focuses attention on the specific language choices of the text. I always appreciate a children’s book that plays with lyrical language and advanced vocabulary. Sidman’s delightful book thoroughly celebrates the intricacies and auditory delight of language. She fearlessly presents advanced vocabulary words.

“And where is Blue?
Humming, shimmering,
Snoozing in the lazy haze.
Dancing on water
With Yellow and Green.
In summer,
Blue grows new names:
Turquoise,
                azure,
                             cerulean.”

Try saying, “humming, shimmering, snoozing” and feel the words in your mouth. Stretch them out as you repeat them and imagine how this delivery will engage young listeners and draw them in. Do your young students know the meaning of “shimmering” or, harder still, “cerulean” and “azure”? Probably not. Yet even the youngest listeners will respond to the richness and rhythm of the text and may leave the book with a new understanding of the advanced vocabulary presented so seamlessly within the text. After all, how many Beatrix Potter lovers grew up knowing the meaning of “soporific” as a result of The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies?

With its expansive and demanding word selection, Red Sings from Treetops is not necessarily a good book for early readers. Advanced readers who are already familiar with the text may be able to make their way through such challenges as “dolloped,” “sequined,” and “lustrous.” However, it is a wonderful, lyrical read aloud for both adult reader and young listener alike.

The vibrant paintings invite exploration and provide many connections between pages. Follow a cardinal, the “Red” of the title, as it flies between the pages accompanying an unnamed human character and a small dog through the progress of the seasons. In keeping with the whimsy and fantasy of the illustrations, the characters all wear crowns and are sometimes standing on wheels Textures and rubbings often peek from beneath the painted pages and print is frequently a part of the illustrations. For instance, a wheel is decorated with the word “circle” and the main character is adorned with various clothing patterned with the names of the seasons. Zagarenski’s fanciful illustrations were recognized when Red Sings from Treetops was named a 2009 Caldecott Honor Book.

So expand your already burgeoning color and season collection with this beautiful book. Its language and illustrations make a welcome addition to any library.

Dogzilla by Dav Pilkey

Dogzilla by Dav Pilkey

Silliness sells books.  Why?  Well, goofiness grabs the attention of even the most reluctant readers and true inanity is so much fun that you simply have to read the book again and again and eventually buy it yourself or wear out the library copies.  So lets thank Dav Pilkey, master of goofiness, for maintaining his high silly quotient and keeping young readers engaged in hilarious and sometimes irreverent tales. 

The prolific author and illustrator of the Captain Underpants, Ricky Ricotta, and Dragon series, Pilkey brings his special brand of silliness to picture books in Dogzilla.  From the outset, Pilkey sets up this book as a clear spoof of the Godzilla films.  He begins with a credits page noting the true names of his animal “actors” (his actual pet dog and mice) and proclaiming an “EG” rating: “This book has been rated ‘Extremely Goofy.’ Some material may be too goofy for grown-ups.”  Well, not too goofy for this grown-up.  Dogzilla and its companion book Kat Kong are among my favorite read-alouds. 

Who can resist intoning the mock horror narration of a B movie and saying all of these ridiculous puns?  Dogzilla, “the most terrifying creature ever known to mousekind” emerges from a volcano after smelling the savory scents from Mousopolis’ First Annual Barbecue Cook-Off.  Wacky antics ensue as the mice attempt to counter the monstrous mutt and her horrible dog breath.  For the amusement of the audience, cliched phrases are sprinkled throughout the text.  “What are you, men or mice?” and “You simply can’t teach an old dog new tricks” assume new relevance when presented in the context of this mock creature feature.  However, my favorite line has proven enjoyable for children as young as toddlers and is featured when the mouse military leader pursues Dogzilla back to her volcano:  “The Big Cheese tried to catch up to the hot dog with all the relish he could muster.”  Get it?  Silly, yes, but young children find this page hilarious because they can understand the joke even if they don't fully comprehend the terms "relish" and "muster."  Dogzilla is tremendously fun to read and together with Kat Kong became a much anticipated tradition of my preschool’s summer camp.

Pilkey melds photographs of his pets with vibrant cartoon-quality illustrations.  Children enjoy pointing out where the photographs end and the paintings begin.  Using this engaging technique, Pilkey creates hilarious vignettes of helmeted mice riding in tanks and wielding fire hoses and a bespeckled professor sporting horn-rimmed glasses and carrying a giant scrub brush.  The mild demeanor of the title character offsets any potential fear factor for young children.  Dogzilla herself is an amiable looking corgi whose photograph is superimposed on vividly colored backdrops of erupting volcanic ash and jagged lightning bolts.  Even when wreaking havoc on the streets of Mousopolis, she sports a goofy dog smile.

So remember silly Dav Pilkey when you are searching for an enticement for a disinterested reader.  Even Pilkey’s first name is a testament to his goofy outlook.  It’s pronounced “Dave” but spelled “Dav” in silly homage to a nametag misspelling from a former job at Pizza Hut.  His kind-hearted and goofy books have come to the rescue in many a home including my own.  Thank you Captain Underpants for keeping my then second grade son reading books!

For a complete list of Pilkey's work, interviews, and even goofy games, visit http://www.pilkey.com/

Dogger by Shirley Hughes

Dogger by Shirley Hughes
 
Simply put, Dogger by British author Shirley Hughes is a treasure. Grounded in family routines and sibling kindness, this simple tale may set the gold standard for modeling empathy in books for young children. I first read this book as a parent, then gifted it at innumerable baby showers, later ordered it for my preschool library, and always included it as one of our “Fifty Fabulous Reads” for our preschool summer camp reading blanket area. Although our children are now grown, Dogger remains a cherished part of our family library and I relish the opportunity to pull it out and read it aloud when young nieces and nephews come to visit. And yes, on occasion, I may indulge in a solo reading just to enjoy Hughes’ soothing portrait of tender familial connections.

Dogger captures a toddler’s fervent yet sweet attachment to a favorite toy. Dave is a preschooler who plays exclusively with a careworn soft brown plush dog called Dogger. He snuggles with Dogger every night in order to go to sleep. One day after accompanying his mother on daily errands, Dave is unable to find Dogger. The family looks throughout the house and even out in the yard “but Dogger was quite lost.” Dave’s older sister Bella offers him one of her teddy bears for a bedtime cuddle “but it was not the same thing as Dogger. Dave kept waking up in the night and missing him.”

The next morning, the family attends Bella’s school fair. Bella wins the Three-Legged Race as well as a raffle with a huge teddy bear as the prize. Feeling sad and somewhat resentful of Bella’s success, Dave wanders around the fair booths and discovers Dogger on the yard sale table! He tries to explain that Dogger belongs to him and has mistakenly been placed in the yard sale. When he is unable to persuade the seller to return Dogger to him, Dave rushes to find his parents in the schoolyard crowds. Finally, he finds Bella, explains the problem, and rushes back with her to the yard sale. When they arrive at the toy stand, they see a girl walking away with Dogger. Bella attempts to buy Dogger back from the girl and soon Dave and the little girl are both crying because each wishes to have the little brown dog.

“Then Bella did something very kind.” She swaps her brand new enormous teddy bear for the old worn out Dogger. Dave is reunited with his beloved toy and order is restored to his world.

Author and illustrator of more than fifty of her own books and illustrator of dozens of other works, Shirley Hughes art is instantly recognizable. Her work is characterized by fluid pen and ink drawings and representative illustrations of the coziness and general untidiness of homes with young children. Toys are strewn across floors, clothes are rumpled, hair appears windblown, and detailed cityscapes are full of familiar objects and characters. Her illustrations evoke inhabited and comfortable family environments. Hughes is especially skilled at portraying body language and facial gestures. In a 2003 interview coinciding with an exhibition of her artwork, Hughes stated that her drawings are created rapidly “almost at the speed of seeing” (http://www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/walker/exhibitions/shirley/index.asp). In Dogger, these rich and itemized illustrations create direct connections with Dave’s home and room. The art also allows children to speculate about the circumstances when Dogger was lost. Later, in an overhead illustration of the school fair, they are able to explore the many booths and the location of the yard sale toy table where Dogger is ultimately found. Can he be seen in the aerial painting? Many children declare that he is indeed visible.

Dogger was Hughes’ first international best-seller and won the 1977 Kate Greenaway Medal, Britain’s annual award for outstanding illustration in children’s literature. She is well represented in US libraries where earlier US editions of Dogger are sometimes found under the title of Dave and Dog. Her other notable children’s books include Tales of Trotter Street and the Alfie series including my personal favorites, Alfie Lends a Hand and Alfie Gets in First.

Hughes writes in clear simple prose without indulging in saccharine language or overwrought emotion. I particularly appreciate that Hughes never uses the term “love” in the entire book. While the story is certainly infused with love between siblings, among family, and even towards an inanimate object, Hughes chooses to avoid using what might be a pat and overused term. However, I choose to use this word in describing my own reaction to Shirley Hughes’ work: I love her charming tales of small domestic, interpersonal drama. Her work rings true. Hughes perfectly captures the stomach-dropping panic felt upon discovery that a child has lost his favorite lovey. And she always evokes a pang when I read of Bella’s loving act to help her bereft little brother.