Children's Books: Reviews Week of 8/14/2006

by Staff -- Publishers Weekly, 8/14/2006

Halloween

In Michelson's (Happy Feet) prime example of the powers of suggestion, a boy consoles his timid sister before bed: "It's only wind./ Ignore that sound./ You're safe./ There are no ghosts around." She protests ("Oh no, not ghosts!"), so he gamely puts on a werewolf mask to chase the ghouls away. "Oh no, not werewolves!" she squeaks, as her imagination summons slavering wolves, a cackling shadow-witch and a skeleton in the closet. McCauley (Mom and Dad Are Palindromes) tweaks the intensity with sharp-edged, high-contrast linocuts. In his endpapers, a leafy blue-on-blue wallpaper pattern resolves into bats and faces, the perfect way to open and close this feverish, funny tale. Readers wishing to counter the scaredy-cat-girl cliché should try Jarrett J. Krosoczka's Annie Was Warned, or McGhee and Bliss's A Very Brave Witch (reviewed below). Ages 3-7. (Sept.)

You might not believe this, but most witches are afraid of humans," a witch girl confides. As her encyclopedic Big Book of Humans indicates, "Humans aren't green like us," and they often dislike flying. Consequently, older witches tremble when she takes a Halloween risk and offers a human girl a broom ride. McGhee and Bliss (previously paired for Countdown to Kindergarten) take a witty, sideways approach to multicultural crossover; the parental demographic might chuckle at headstones labeled Addams and Joey Ramone. Bliss channels Charles M. Schulz in his voice-bubble dialogue and expressive drawings of children with circular heads, simple mouths and dot-eyes with parentheses-shaped eyelids. Like Michael Rex's Brooms Are for Flying! and David Costello's Here They Come!, this tale demystifies the amiable protagonist and her non-green counterpart alike. Ages 4-8. (Aug.)

Korean theater traditions meet American Halloween customs in Choi's (Peach Heaven) satisfying tale. When Kimin gets ready to choose a trick-or-treat costume, his mother brings him two red boxes from his late grandfather, "a famous dancer in Korea." Kimin feels ambivalent because his grandfather once startled him with a white-eyebrowed, white-bearded face. But inside the boxes, he finds family photos and the "gruesome" face—a stylized performance mask. This discovery transforms Kimin's negative memory and becomes a perfect Halloween outfit, although it gets a little scuffed. Choi's text-and-image layouts and cross-generational subject matter recall Allen Say's work on heritage. Ages 4-8. (Oct.)

Halloween and the Day of the Dead overlap in this atmospheric, bilingual romp. Montes (Juan Bobo Goes to Work) composes serviceable stanzas, using English and Spanish words as synonyms: "Los gatos black with eyes of green,/ Cats slink and creep on Halloween." This dual-language approach can be redundant ("At medianoche midnight strikes..."), yet Morales (Harvesting Hope) holds readers' attention with surreal, faintly macabre spreads in dim turquoise and clay-brown hues, illuminated by fuschia and flame orange. Witches fly broomsticks like skateboard whizzes, a headstone references Mexican comic Cantinflas and sallow-faced muertos dance until children arrive: "The thing that monsters most abhor/ Are human niños at the door!" Ages 4-8. (Sept.)

Robbins (Tools; Seeds) provides a crisp photographic account of Halloween's iconic veggie. The horizontal alignment of the pages and color photos creates stability, while a monotone voice and close-up pictures detail the planting process from vine to mulch. Robbins's serious, scientific tone draws attention to even the tamest humor ("Some are round, but some of them are kind of flattened, or squashed, you might say"), and a how-to sequence on jack-o-lantern carving makes this just right for first-timers ("Put a candle inside and light it. It will look quite nice"). Gardeners will see their know-how confirmed in this forthright version, and novices may well be inspired to experience the slimy pulp and seeds for themselves. Ages 4-8. (Aug.)

Angela, whose showboaty older sister, Bernadette, gets the best Halloween treats, begs to wear her sibling's hand-me-down costumes. But Bernadette still outdoes her, three years in a row, until Angela designs a special ghost outfit, and Bernadette stays home with chicken pox. The title of Macdonald's (Hedgehog Bakes a Cake) paper-over-board book is a slight misnomer, for Angela wears secondhand items only twice and lends flair to each—adults just don't notice her. Wilsdorf (Sunny Boy!), whose sympathetic illustrations recall Susan Meddaugh's, evokes understanding of Angela's yearly dilemma and shows the underdog developing an assertive personality. Ages 4-up. (Aug.)

Omar the bear, Kovalski's teddyish series hero, cannot decide upon the ideal Halloween costume. Like the title character of last season's T. Rex Trick or Treats by Lois G. Grambling, illus. by Jack E. Davis, Omar aspires to being "the worst kind of scary." He considers disguising himself as a spider or bat, until his friends praise those creatures' pest-control talents. When the big day arrives, he glumly trick-or-treats as a ghost; to his great luck, a downpour turns his simple white sheet into a terrifying disguise, complete with mud and twigs. Kovalski's unfussy colored-pencil drawings may lack polish, but Omar's story is well and warmly told. Ages 6-8. (Aug.)

Although wordier than most 1-2-3 stories, this conversational paper-over-board volume prompts readers to count decorations and guests at a haunted party. Gillieron's upbeat teacherly voice urges listeners to enumerate "glary fairy lights," "glow-worm lanterns" and dancing spiders: "What a lot of legs—too many to count. But I can see five spider webs—can you?" Cobb's (Tongue Twisters to Tangle Your Tongue) airy gouaches balance the lengthy sentences with floaty, bright details. She nimbly pictures rosy-cheeked ghosts, a witch playing air-guitar on her broom and a skeleton jangling the bone-xylophone. Note to the squeamish: "mousehead biscuits" and "frogs' feet fizzy drinks" are the least appetizing aspects. Ages 6-10. (Sept.)

This suspenseful folk story, collected by Hurston (1861–1960) and adapted by Thomas (The Six Fools), finds three crones (with teeth "far longer than their lips") in pursuit of a brother and sister. After the children's grandmother leaves their woodland cabin for provisions, the sister says, "I smell witches." "Good ones or bad ones?" her brother asks. "Bad," she answers. The red, green and purple hags—depicted in Ringgold's (Tar Beach) homespun painting style—chase the siblings up a tree and commence to chop it down; while the girl repeats a conjuring spell, the boy calls for their three hound dogs and grandmother slowly wends her way home. Simultaneously nerve-wracking and comic, this joins the crop of African-American scary tales like Hamilton and Moser's Wee Winnie Witch's Skinny. Ages 6-10. (Aug.)

In this humorous, fast-paced paper-over-board caper, Sage (the Septimus Heap series) introduces narrator Araminta Spookie (who also gives the series its name), a spirited gal who lives in a large Victorian house. Her crabby Aunt Tabby is constantly doing battle with a malfunctioning boiler, and Uncle Drac slumbers in a sleeping bag hanging from the joists of a bat-filled turret. When her aunt announces that she wants to sell the house and move to someplace modern, Araminta muses, "We couldn't possibly move, not before I'd found at least one ghost." The heroine, determined to sabotage the sale of her beloved home, scares off several real estate agents. Her big break comes, however, when she finds an old key in the foot of Sir Horace, an ancient suit of armor (who turns out to be a ghost), along with a note saying it's the key to the balcony over the entryway to the house (a perfect spot to launch an "Awful Ambush" on potential buyers). Her quest to reach the balcony leads to an exciting series of adventures, involving a secret passageway and a ride on a dumbwaiter. Araminta indeed pulls off an elaborate ambush, creating comical mayhem with unexpected, satisfying results. Pickering's quirky art adds to the kooky—and in spots somewhat spooky—fun (especially his clever renderings of the ghosts). Araminta returns in The Sword in the Grotto (ISBN 0-06-077484-3), due the same month. Ages 7-10. (Aug.)

This farcical romp launches the Joe Sherlock, Kid Detective series and marks Keane's children's book debut. Appropriately known by his surname alone, the boy narrator declares, "I was born with a natural gift for solving mysteries." Perhaps, yet this slapstick-laced story of his first case reveals some of Sherlock's bumbling moves, many of which are certainly chuckle-worthy. A perplexed neighbor hires Sherlock to get to the bottom of some curious goings-on: moaning noises emanate from his toolshed, and a bundt cake baked by the man's mother (who suffers from a case of flatulence) has mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen—as has his mother's glass eye. Sherlock, equipped with his sister Hailey's "Girl Chat Sleepover backpack" and matching walkie-talkie, sets off into the night to track down the culprit. His overactive imagination kicks in, and he suspects the Grim Reaper is tapping him on the back and that a Tyrannosaurus rex is going to snatch him up (and swallow him whole "like a Swedish meatball"). As Keane's comically convoluted plot proceeds, Hailey delivers some of the liveliest lines. Kids looking for a robust mystery may want to venture elsewhere, but reluctant readers will welcome the brief chapters (presented in large type), zany half-tone spot art (also by Keane) and zippy pace. More of Sherlock's shenanigans fill The Neighborhood Stink (0-06-076187-3; paper 0-06-076186-5), due the same month. Ages 7-10. (July)

Featuring a special introductory price, this tale launches the Tom Swift, Young Inventor series with a splash. Immediately plunging readers into the action, the narrative opens as Tom and his two best friends sneak into an aquarium to test the clever boy's latest invention, a shark-repelling zapper imbedded in a diving suit. Though the mechanism shorts out while Tom's swimming in the shark tank, the lad escapes and is determined to try out the zapper in "real-life, deep-ocean conditions." He hopes he'll have his chance when he accompanies his scientist father on a research vessel. Fearful that a recent undersea earthquake will be followed by others that could trigger a tsunami, the man plans to deploy seismic sensors on the ocean's floor that will act as a warning system. While Tom's father descends in a small submarine to accomplish this, a massive underwater quake occurs, leaving the vehicle buried under volcanic boulders. Predictably, Tom springs into action and, aided by one of his inventions, his nifty diving suit, some quick thinking and a boatload of luck. He pilots another sub and manages to save his father with just minutes to spare before their air supplies run out. Tom's superhero antics may stretch credibility, but the tale consistently moves at a—well, swift—pace, and kids will find this an undersea journey worth taking. Tom faces his next challenge in The Robot Olympics ($4.99; 1-4169-1361-0), due out the same month. Ages 8-12. (July)

Alice was real—although her name was spelled Alyss, one of the many details Lewis Carroll got wrong in the story told to him by the young queen of Wonderland, according to Beddor's imaginative opener to a planned trilogy. Seven-year-old Alyss Heart is heir to the throne of Wonderland, just beginning her training under her albino tutor Bibwit Harte (an anagram for "white rabbit," one of many such puns) when her evil aunt Redd, long ago banished to the Chessboard Desert, leads a violent coup that kills King Nolan, Alyss's father. Alyss narrowly escapes (via a looking glass, naturally) with the help of bodyguard Hatter Madigan, and ends up in a London orphanage. Here she meets Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, a "gentle, shrinking-violet type of fellow," who will turn her story into a children's book; years later, Hatter finds the book during his quest to find the lost princess, and seeks out Carroll. While the girl (now Alice Liddell) prepares to marry Prince Leopold, life in Wonderland grows ever harsher under the reign of Redd, and the "Alyssinians" await the return of their young queen-to-be. Beddor makes ample use of Carroll-esque humor and wit, so much so that the thought of an entire trilogy is somewhat daunting; fortunately, the ending to this first entry allows readers to treat it as a standalone. Fans of the source material will find this an entertaining diversion, while those unfamiliar with it will miss much of the humor. Ages 12-up. (Sept.) Agent: Barbara Marshall Ltd.

Richards (the Invisible Detective series) makes a strong showing in this haunting story set in Victorian London, where a 14-year-old pickpocket, a young horologist at the British Museum, and a clergyman's daughter with a taste for theatrics join forces to thwart a mad industrialist's attempts to reanimate the dead. Right from the opening sentence, "Four days after his own funeral, Albert Wilkes came home for tea," the pace never falters. Eddie, George and Liz meet through a plausible course of events, and become involved with the maniacal Mr. Lorimore when a museum clerk is killed, and George takes a scrap of paper from the scene of his friend's death. As the tale progresses, the three teens find in each other a measure of companionship that each had lacked. Richards demonstrates a knack for physical description ("When he spoke, the sound seemed to be amplified by the mass of red hair round his mouth") as well as for conjuring an eerie atmosphere, evoking the smog and stench of industrial London as easily as supernatural beings ("The nightmare creature roared like a train hurtling into a tunnel and clouds of hot breath erupted into the air around Eddie"). Suspense and adventure in abundance make for a thrilling read. Ages 12-18. (July)

In Scottish author Pow's (Scabbit Isle) first novel to be published in the U.S., three children live with wild dogs in a post-apocalyptic world where humanity itself seems on the verge of going feral. Bradley, Floris and Victor live in the squalid Zones that sit in the shadow of the Invisible City ("while in the Zones the city seemed to be dying—rusting, putrefying, belching steam from broken vents—the Invisible City was constantly changing: new shops, coffee bars, businesses") with their companion dogs Hunger, Shelter and Fearless. The mysterious Old Woman tells them cryptic stories of the "Dead Time" that brought about the world's ruin. When bandits kidnap Floris, Victor—whose human nature is slowly reverting to animal ways—pursues her into the Forbidden Territories that separate the City from the Zones, with Bradley and Hunger close behind. A ruthless gang led by Red Dog kidnaps Bradley and forces Hunger to take part in a dog-fighting competition, described in a long, disquieting sequence. An escape leads to the discovery of a dark secret at the heart of the City: children are held as slaves because their small hands are adept at building electronic devices and security systems. The plot takes a while to unfold and includes an overabundance of allegorical messages (the moral stain of sweatshops, the perils of urban life, the ease with which men revert to their animal instincts), but the finale is extremely effective. Ages 12-up. (July)

Although Rees's (Witch Child) story of the life-changing summer when Richard was 15 begins with an air of mystery ("first real kiss, first true love, first sex. First death"), the true thrust of the novel is an exploration of the nature of creativity and life on the fringes of society. The author begins in 1982, as Richard, now 21, enters a gallery where his image plays a starring role in the erotic exhibition on display. The paintings touch off flashbacks to the summer of 1976 in Wales, six years earlier, when he first meets the artist, Jethro Arnold ("Jay") Dalton, and his family. Rees fluidly incorporates the image of each painting and the events surrounding it; the Daltons' home, the Wish House of the title, is simultaneously grand and decaying, seductive and forbidding. The backdrop, too, evokes an era when joints, open marriages, and running naked on the beach were common. Clio, the artist's teenage daughter, fascinates and enthralls Richard, and the two soon begin spending days exploring the woods and meadows, and the nights exploring each other. Eventually, Richard realizes there has been a terrible betrayal that changes his view of everything. Rees is at the top of her form. The "gallery notes" describing the works by Clio and her father anchor the story, told in third-person from Richard's point of view, while the solid characterizations carry along the flashback scenes. A top-notch look at first love, heartbreak, and the driving force of passion. Ages 14-up. (Sept.)