Children's Book Reviews

An adaptation of an old West Country lullaby, Greene’s (Billy Beg and His Bull) text has a lovely, crooning lilt. Its verses extol how the child’s wonderfulness either equals or excels the wonders of nature: “There’s not a star that shines on high/ Is brighter than my baby’s eye.” These cozy sentiments get a shot of steroids in the unusual, anthem-like final verse, in which the mother is allowed a soaring, possibly rousing wrap-up: “Ten thousand parks where the deer run/ Ten thousand roses in the sun,/ Ten thousand pearls beneath the sea/ My babe more precious is to me.” Working in velvety pastels, Sayles (I Already Know I Love You) imagines a mother and her child in a garden idyll; tiny fairies frolic around the pair, secretly preparing crowns of flowers and pearls for the lucky humans (who receive them unaware in a gatefold spread at the end). And while the romantically evoked forest landscape, complete with lily pond, and the dreamy palette of twilight blues and greens extend the maternal fantasy, the winged fairies come across as diminutive domestic help, soothing rather than startling. Arrestingly, Sayles uses the fairies to modulate the song’s hyperbole, countering the climactic buildup of the text with her tranquil visual storytelling. Ages up to 3. (Mar.)

A hysterical hen is convinced that her beloved chick is meeting his doom in the farmyard’s deep, thick mud. After getting stuck herself trying to free him, she enlists the entire farm population to help her; one by one, each gets entrapped in the mud as well. The chain of pullers and pushers grows long enough to require a gatefold spread, at which point the cheeky chick reveals that he was never in any danger: “It’s time I got out,” he announces. “And with a small plop,/ Chick jumped off the mud/ with a skip and hop.” Clarke’s predictable rhymes and word choices (“It’s purr-fectly easy,” says a cat, “I’ll soon pull you free”) may make presiding adults yearn for Jez Alborough’s far punchier mud-as-nemesis tale, Duck in a Truck. But Parsons (Trouble at the Dinosaur Café) assembles a memorably emotive animal cast, and it’s a lot of fun to watch this hapless and increasingly chagrined group struggle its way toward a totally unnecessary rescue. Ages 3-7. (Mar.)

Following in the hoofprints of Chlorinda and Dumpy LaRue, Charlie the guinea pig trades in domesticity for stardom in this high-energy variation on a shopworn theme. Sophie is stunned to find Charlie’s cage empty: in Brunkus’s (illustrator of the Junie B. Jones books) characteristically emphatic rendition, the girl’s eyes pop, a bowl drops from one hand and the guinea pig’s food sprays forth from the box she holds in the other. As Sophie’s family begins a search party, the visual gags are stock: a mother in curlers, gravity-defying braids for the little sister, both characters shouting with their mouths open so wide that their eyes close. Eventually they discover a scrawled note (“Off to the coast...”) and an illuminating article on the newspaper that lines his cage (“Pigs Big in Hollywood”). From there Blumenthal (Don’t Let the Peas Touch!) cuts to Charlie’s trip to Hollywood, where he instantly wins a leading role and huge popularity. Almost as quickly, he realizes that celebrity feels hollow, and he quietly returns to Sophie. Brunkus gamely ratchets up the camp—Charlie’s co-star is a pouty Louise Brooks type with a boa, Charlie’s movie-star get-up includes a flowing purple cape and cravat, etc.—but the story doesn’t deliver the sparkle of the gold-foil accents on the jacket. Ages 3-8. (Mar.)

Art sings on the pages of this visual celebration of Arabic calligraphy as Rumford’s (Sequoyah) collages of floral and geometric designs and flowing lines deftly echo Arabic language and patterns. “Writing a long sentence is like watching a soccer player in slow motion as he kicks the ball across the field, as I leave a trail of dots and loops behind me,” says narrator Ali, explaining his love of calligraphy. Spreads incorporating stamps, money and postcards reinforce the Baghdad setting and complement representational scenes, such as an intricate collage of Ali huddling under a blanket next to his cat, writing. Arabic words, translated in places, sometimes embed in the pages as part of the illustrations, even patterning Ali’s mother’s dress. Like his hero, the famed calligrapher Yakut, who wrote through the destruction of Baghdad in 1258 (“he shut out the horror and wrote glistening letters of rhythm and grace”), Ali turns to calligraphy during the bombing of Baghdad in 2003. In an eloquent ending, he discovers that while the word “war” flows easily, the pen “stubbornly resists me when I make the difficult waves and slanted staff of salam—peace.” Ages 4-8. (Mar.)

With his large-scale, unflinching illustrations, Delessert (Alert!) turns a retelling of the Three Little Pigs into a metaphor about dangerous marauders and how to stop them. The jacket art gives barely a hint of what’s to come; the three pigs stand in a column, eyes glinting, as the first holds a flaming match to a furry tail. The tail’s owner, the wolf Big and Bad, is so unslakeable in his greed that a fox warns, “Soon the planet will be too small for his appetite.” Clever cats choreograph a plot to bring him down, using the unwitting pigs as bait and enlisting the construction skills of beavers, birds and badgers. Neither Delessert’s words nor his pictures are for the faint-hearted. Describing the wolf’s taste for fur hats, for example, Delessert shows him looking ridiculous in a cap with seven cats’ tails—but with a chicken foot protruding from his jaws, the fur around them red with blood. Unlike some of Delessert’s earlier titles, in which existential dilemmas lead to murky conclusions, this book arrives at a decisive—if vengeful—climax. What distinguishes Delessert’s work is the willingness to explore images of evil—images from which most contemporary picture books shrink, but which lurk nevertheless in the nightmares of children. His tale is an unlikely homage to those of his literary forebears, the Brothers Grimm. Ages 4-8. (Mar.)

Text, pictures, subject and pacing all contribute to the success of Nivola’s (Elisabeth) picture book biography of Wangari Maathai, the 2004 winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. In the first pages, Wangari watches her mother in the garden; the pale mountains, blue sky and profusion of growing things testify to Kenya’s primeval beauty. Educated at a Benedictine college in Kansas, Maathai returns to her native country to find the land stripped for commercial farming. Others sigh; she is galvanized. She stands among women whose colorful skirts belie their poverty, and she teaches them to plant trees. Not even Kenya’s soldiers escape her campaign: “You hold your guns... but what are you protecting?” she demands. “You should hold the gun in your right hand and a tree seedling in your left.” Thirty million trees later, the soil—and small farms—thrive again. Simultaneously childlike and sophisticated, Nivola’s paintings have the detail of tapestry and the dignity of icons. The idea of restoring ruined land to its original beauty will fill readers of all ages with hope. Nivola makes children feel it is possible for anyone to change the course of history if they set their mind to it. An author’s note provides additional biographical and political details. Ages 5-8. (Apr.)

This biographical story about a Cambodian boy who survives the reign of the Khmer Rouge may be more educational than engaging, but it offers an age-appropriate view of a subject rarely visited in children’s books. Lord (Little Sap and Monsieur Rodin) begins with Arn Chorn-Pond’s idyllic upbringing in a home “filled with the sweet sounds of music and laughter” and quickly shifts to the invasion of his village in 1975 by the Khmer Rouge, who dispatch Arn to a horrific children’s work camp. Starving, working endless hours in the rice paddies, Arn steps forward when soldiers ask for volunteers to learn to play the khim, a wooden string instrument, and the songs “filled Arn’s empty stomach and soothed his broken heart.” Heavy with brown and gray, Arihara’s (Ceci Ann’s Day of Why) bleak paintings depict the dreadful, e.g., a soldier with a machine gun marches away with the khim teacher and less successful music students (they go “to the sweet-smelling orange groves, and the solider returned alone”). The tale ends with Arn’s escape, adoption by an American volunteer and gradual entry into American life, where he recovers from trauma by playing the music of his native land. Endnotes describe his ongoing efforts to rebuild Cambodia and revive its arts. Ages 6-11. (Mar.)

After eight years, the bestselling master of middle-grade horror returns, this time with the first book of a new, deliciously chilling 12-book series. As is planned for the other titles, this suspenseful opener is broken into two equally enjoyable sections—a standalone story and the first installment of what already reads like a ghostly serial at its spookiest. In the same tried-and-true style as the older Goosebumps stories, the standalone involves two smart yet vulnerable kids as they try to bury “Mr. Badboy,” an evil ventriloquist’s dummy with a mind of its own, and a Mumban doll with a shrunken human head that steals minds when touched, before the two dolls can do any major damage. In Part Two, the same characters embark on another petrifying adventure to a mysterious theme park advertised as “HorrorLand: Where Nightmares Come to Life.” All the essential tricks of the trade to keep readers up at night are front and center: the ominous noises at just the right moments, the grisly visual descriptions and the cliffhangers around every corner. Combined with the promise of an ongoing story, this series should easily garner a new crop of scare-addicts. Ages 8-12. (Apr.)

Ghost story veteran Hahn (Deep and Dark and Dangerous) spins another novel filled with things that moan and creek in the night. In an old, reputedly haunted bed and breakfast in the woods of Vermont, the chandeliers swing seemingly at random. The lights blink on and off, the radio zips through its stations at top volume, and “shadows race around the walls, laughing and taunting [guests] with insults relating to the size of [their] rear end[s].” What sets this apart from a run-of-the-mill spooky tale is not simply that the protagonists, 11-year-old Corey and 12-year-old Travis, have provoked the dead by faking a haunting, but that they then feel obliged to help resolve the spirits’ problems and lay them to rest, no matter what the cost. When Corey and Travis discover the inn was an poorhouse in the 19th century, and that the ghosts that now roam its corridors were children who died there at the hands of abusive owners, readers might be inspired by Hahn’s colorful historical investigation to learn more about what actually happened during those times. In addition to crafting some genuinely spine-chilling moments, the author takes a unique approach to a well-traversed genre. Ages 9-12. (Apr.)

Set in a tiny village in Honduras, Trueman’s (Stuck in Neutral) novel is based on Hurricane Mitch and the devastation it wrought in 1998, and informed by the author’s experiences teaching in San Pedro Sula in 1981–1982. Trueman explains in an endnote that Mitch was the worst storm to hit the Caribbean in 200 years: as the 13-year-old narrator, José, experiences it, Mitch is cataclysmic. Striking while José’s father, older brother and sister are out on the road, the calamitous weather induces a mudslide that destroys all but two of the houses in the village and buries most of the residents. It falls to José to conquer his fear and be the man of the house. Trueman doesn’t flinch from the grislier facts (in one scene, José leads a dig for groceries and finds the corpse of the grocer), but although he describes José’s thoughts and reactions he stints on the sensory details. Accordingly, readers will understand the impact of the storm, while the style and the almost miraculous happy ending may insulate them from feeling too much of it for themselves. An addendum links this novel (first published in a different form in the U.K. in 2003) with the events surrounding Hurricane Katrina. Ages 10-up. (Mar.)

The Printz Award–winning author of A Step from Heaven goes lightweight, or lighter, in this story about a Korean-American teenager whose wealthy aunt has just won a lottery and offers her plastic surgery for double eyelid folds. On the one hand, Joyce longs to be as beautiful as her perfect, high-achieving older sister, Helen, but she can’t stand pain. Yet how else will she attract her handsome classmate, John Ford Kang, who confuses her with their ugly Korean-American classmate? Then again, does she really want to be like Aunt Gomo, who has had so much cosmetic surgery that Joyce and her younger brother have nicknamed her Michael “for the singer who had altered his appearance beyond recognition”? In creating her bumbling, would-be Everygirl protagonist, Na gives only surface attention to the issues she raises: the pressures of conventional standards of beauty, especially Western demands on Asian women; conformity versus individuality (Joyce is the last in the family to discover that Helen is gay). Joyce remains focused on appearances, being rude to the generous, sensitive boy who has cystic acne, liking John Ford Kang for his looks and learning tricks to make her eyes appear less Asian. By the end, the suffering of supporting characters seems to have been airbrushed away. Ages 12-up. (Apr.)

Squeamish readers might steer clear of this potent first novel, which begins with the 13-year-old narrator savagely bludgeoning a trapped fox to death in the Alabama woods. The brutal opening scene sets the tone for an increasingly disturbing tale centered on the narrator, Walter, and his two best friends, Jimmy and Raymond, nicknamed Mothball. As Walter tells readers, he has just discovered a devastating family secret in his mother’s diary (it is not revealed until close to the end), and a deep anger grows inside of him. The people around him, overcome by a sense of powerlessness, seem gripped by fury, too, and immune to violence. Mothball, for example, decides he will break the Guinness record for keeping alive a headless chicken; Sanders builds in the gruesome scenes with ax and chopping block, later with eye dropper and corn slurry, creating a horrifying metaphor for the blind cruelty that increasingly governs Walter’s actions. The tone only darkens, while the novel stays suspenseful from start to finish. Readers will want to learn Walter’s secrets and will not guess many answers in advance. The shocking ending, though wrapped up quickly, won’t disappoint. Ages 12-up. (Mar.)

Set in London, Radford’s teen fiction debut features an especially likable narrator with untapped extrasensory powers. Having just discovered her shocking gift, 14-year-old Fiona Blount can’t decide if she should tell her best friend and risk looking crazy. Plus, she worries that having ESP and a talent for mind control might put a dent in her “Total Anonymity” plan for school, which she has perfected to avoid the wrath of resident mean girl Melissa. And to complicate matters further, Fiona thinks she may have finally found her father, from whom her mother was accidentally separated after their fleeting affair at a music festival 15 years earlier. The plot is at times clichéd: Fiona’s ”secret god,” cool guy Joe, breaks up with Mean Melissa and promptly falls head over heels for her, and Mean Melissa is revealed to have a troubled home life.Even with weaknesses, the novel shines when it focuses on Fiona’s struggle to understand her ESP and her attempts to make contact with her father. These elements are more than enough to capture and sustain readers’ attention. The author also writes for adults, under the name Michelle Cunnah (Confessions of a Serial Dater). Ages 12-up. (Mar.)

Sleator (House of Stairs; Hell Phone) misses the mark with a dystopian near-future thriller that takes the doctrine of “No Child Left Behind” doctrine to extremes. The eponymous test (it “not only left kids, it got rid of them”) is the all-important XCAS, and to prepare for it, students learn nothing except how to take tests; however, those who fail it cannot go to college and are barred from high-paying jobs. These have-nots are literally stuck in traffic, spinning their wheels for hours before they can reach any useful destination. Luckily Ann Forrest, the feisty heroine, can walk to and from school. When her do-gooder father, a home health aid, aggravates Mr. Warren, the mega-rich owner of the housing project where Mr. Forrest works, the Warrens send a minion on a motorcycle to attack Ann. Meanwhile Ann discovers that the Warrens also own the company that publishes the XCAS. Coincidences pile up and overload the plot: Lep, a Thai immigrant who works for the Warrens, has proof of their corruption and will do anything for Ann, who is also his classmate; a newspaper reporter just happens to witness Ann’s attack; etc. Stiffly executed and obvious in its conclusions, this is more premise than story. Ages 12-up. (Mar.)

Equal parts activity book, ecology lesson and geographical tour, this cheerfully illustrated book conducts a crash course in environmental science. However, the authors, a father-son team, seem to doubt their subject: “If all of this learning sounds a little bit boring—don’t worry!” they say, explaining that they’ve provided experiments to reinforce the education (let evaporation remove salt from saltwater; test smog using rubberbands and wire hangers). A cloth lunch bag, a poster and stickers are also included. Ages 9-up. (Apr.)

Meant to be like a youth version of Braasch’s Earth Under Fire: How Global Warming Is Changing the World, this beautifully photographed global guide offers a look at how research in diverse fields leads to an understanding of the warming climate—and what children and adults are doing about it. The first and largest of the book’s four sections, “Where We Find Clues About Climate Change,” presents researchers, citizen scientists and schoolchildren examining the natural world and unearthing data about climate. Spreads jump from topic to topic, from rainforests to tree rings, oceanic mud samples to 800,000-year-old ice cores. The empowering “What Scientists and You Can Do” section provides practical, proactive suggestions, e.g., eating less meat, drinking tap instead of bottled water. While heavy on the jargon, Cherry (The Great Kapok Tree) immediately and clearly defines all science terms. The book would be overwhelming to read in one sitting; kids and educators will find this timely information is best served up via its bite-sized chapters. Readers young and old looking to make a difference will appreciate the book’s hopeful tone as well as its comprehensive resource lists. Ages 10-14. (Mar.)

Printed on post-consumer-waste recycled paper with vegetable-oil-based inks, this guide to saving the planet practices what it preaches as it encourages teens to adopt green habits. Most of the suggestions here are obvious (skip the bottled water; carpool; take shorter showers), and they tend to be repeated. But repetition is not necessarily a bad thing; the presentation here, impressing readers with the need to think through the environmental impact of their actions, uses the examples of MySpace peers to encourage compliance. A steady parade of young environmentalists who collect 400 batteries in two weeks, or who start campaigns for safer cosmetics, or who beat major car companies in designing an alternate-fuel vehicle, and so forth, demonstrates that teens can and do help the planet. Ages 14-up. (Mar.)