Children's Book Reviews

Of interest to adults as well as children, this handsomely produced black-and-white book intriguingly combines photography, sculpture and poetry. The illiterate child of freed slaves, William Edmondson (1874–1951) experienced religious visions from the age of 13 or 14. At 57, hearing a voice “telling me/ to pick up my tools/ and start to work on a tombstone,” he began carving limestone; he became, in 1937, the first African-American to have a solo show at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. Four of Spires’s (The Mouse of Amherst) poems are taken verbatim from interviews with the artist, but elsewhere the poet mimics Edmondson’s homespun language to remarkable effect, and creates narrative voices for Edmondson’s sculpted characters, photos of which are shown facing the poems. The subjects include an “Angel with a Pocketbook,” Eleanor Roosevelt and a rabbit who explains how Edmondson “thunked me with his hammer./...He reached in with his fingers,/ ... and drew me right out/ of that chunk of limestone!” The immediacy in Spires’s poems will speak to young readers, although the appeal of Edmondson’s weighty, primitive figures may be more apparent to adults. Portraits of Edmondson by luminaries Louise Dahl-Wolfe and Edward Weston make a lingering impression. All ages. (Feb.)

“We rhyme all the time!” declares one of four googly-eyed dust bunnies, ebullient in their palette of bright solid colors and Smurf-like bodies. Three of the shaggy critters promptly strut their stuff, reeling off words that rhyme with “car.” But the fourth shouts, “Look!” Is he just a dimwit, or could he know something the others don’t? The silly, eager-to-please dust bunnies occupy most of the space on the square pages; the silliness, the scale and large dialogue balloons combine for a party-hearty mood. Although a little sketchier than Thomas’s previous works, such as What Will Fat Cat Sit On?, this book is just as funny and snappy-looking. Ages 3–5. (Jan.)

What if Mom and Dad were finally jailed for their crimes against their school-age daughter’s humanity (e.g., talking too loudly and enforcing a regular bedtime)? How perfect would that be? The sweetness of our narrator’s vision fades, however, when she realizes there would be no one around to love her and take care of her. Feiffer and Goode (previously paired for President Pennybaker) give this old chestnut of a story line an urbane sheen. The author understands that children like to assume a voice of objective authority by referring to themselves in the third-person plural (“[My mom] makes people’s boo-boos stop hurting”). And while it seems a bit anachronistic that Goode dresses Mom in a pink shirtwaist worthy of Father Knows Best, her watercolor vignettes are gems of wry intelligence and comic understatement. Ages 4–8. (Mar.)

Hegamin (M+0 4EVR) tackles difficult concepts of slavery, courage and sacrifice in a poignant book about a mother who sends her daughter on the Underground Railroad, armed with a quilt she has made for her; the mother, identifying herself as an “agent,” stays behind to help other slaves escape. The quilt’s centerpiece depicts a smiling girl: the mother wants her daughter to remember always that she is “the most loved in all the world.” The story of slaves finding their way to freedom via directions disguised in patchwork (whether or not this happened is still debated, the author explains in an endnote) is made freshly dramatic by Hegamin’s focus on the separation of mother and child. Cabrera’s (Beauty, Her Basket) broad sweeping paintings—filled with shadowy images, occasionally bordering on the abstract, with some pages merely washes of color—add a deeper note of somberness to the spare text, told in a child’s voice. The narrator’s report that “when Mama come home/ she have whip marks ’cross her back” and “tear marks down her face” may call for explanation, but young readers will share her shock at her mother’s final action and sympathize with her grief. Ages 4–8. (Jan.)

Edna the penguin yearns for something more stimulating than a minimalist horizon. The endless white of snow and ice, the black of the night sky and the “Blue, blue, blue. Forever” of the sky and ocean only increase her ennui. Readers know alternatives exist because a sunset-orange seaplane goes by when Edna’s back is turned; brilliant green and orange endpapers, too, contrast with the limited palette and blocky compositions. Edna treks over icebergs to a revelatory destination, then brings her brood to meet a friendly human expedition camping in ambulance-orange domes and wearing matching jumpsuits; she proudly waddles home with a souvenir orange rubber glove. Portis (Not a Box) celebrates those who long for art and, with her own playful rendering, she inspires readers to celebrate, too. Ages 4–8. (Jan.)

In her children’s book debut, cookbook author/illustrator Gourley (Cakewalk) celebrates food, as cultivated on a farm and as used to cultivate family bonds. Recounting African-American chef Edna Lewis’s childhood in a Virginia farming community, the cheery watercolor spreads follow Edna and various relatives (“Sister,” “Daddy,” “Auntie”) from spring to first snow as they harvest strawberries, dandelion greens, peaches, pecans and more. Edna appreciates each crop, as well as the honey-gathering: “A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay./ A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon./ A swarm of bees in July is not worth a fly,” she recites; similar folk sayings or songs accompany mention of each new food, proof of its centrality to the characters’ happiness. Dynamic paintings, increasingly lush as summer intensifies, add vigor. Children whose experience of food supply is limited to grocery stores, school cafeterias and other eateries will relish this nostalgic view. A short biography of the late Lewis concludes the narrative, and five mouth-watering recipes for Southern staples are welcome extras. Ages 4–8. (Jan.)

Following the character introduced in Locomotion, Woodson switches from poetry to letters to show how 12-year-old Lonnie Collins Motion, aka Locomotion, maintains a bond with his younger sister, Lili. He reminds her of their past: “There was a time before your foster mama came and said, 'I’ll take the little girl but I don’t want no boys.’ ” Besides missing his sister and their late parents, Lonnie has other problems to cope with (his foster mother’s son returns from Iraq disabled and traumatized). In his letters, Lonnie shares the big and small details of his days, works through philosophical struggles (a friend tells him that “Miss Edna was my mama now”), and includes some of the tender poems he composes. Although the epistolary motif makes for some stilted writing, Woodson creates a full-bodied character in kind, sensitive Lonnie. Readers will understand his quest for peace, and appreciate the hard work he does to find it. Ages 9–12. (Jan.)

Rallison (All’s Fair in Love, War, and High School) offers hilarious mishaps from the Middle Ages and modern times as her spurned teen heroine is granted three wishes. After being dumped by her boyfriend, Savannah pines for a prince of a boy who likes the “real” her, even if she is “occasionally late and disorganized.” Not so coincidentally, Savannah’s magical, fair (as in so-so) godmother pops in to make her “heart’s desire” come true. Disasters ensue as Savannah is swept back several centuries. Her next two wishes compound her troubles, drawing an innocent 21st-century bystander (Tristan from the track team) to the age of courtly love and dragon-slaying. They are later joined by Savannah’s sister and ex-boyfriend. Confrontations with an ogre, an invincible Black Knight and an angry enchanted goat are among the trials Savannah must endure as she is taught the inevitable valuable lessons along the way. Along with its delivery of the expected moral, “Be careful what you wish for,” this comedy also allows its protagonist some believable emotional growth. Ages 10–14. (Jan.)

Laced with metaphors about maps and treasure, Headley’s (Girl Overboard) finely crafted novel traces a teen’s uncharted quest to find beauty. Two things block Terra’s happiness: a port-wine stain on her face and her verbally abusive father, a failed cartographer who views her as ugly and belittles the collages she creates. A car accident brings her together with Jacob, an Asian-born adoptee with unconventional ideas. Besides introducing her to new pursuits like geocaching, a treasure-hunting game using GPS, Jacob ends up traveling with her when they have an opportunity to visit China together with their mothers. The trip, far-reaching on many different levels, gives Terra a chance to rethink the past and re-map her goals. Taking readers to America’s Northwest, then to China and back again, the author confidently addresses very large, slippery questions about the meaning of art, travel, love and of course beauty. All of her characters hold secrets; finding them out will be as rewarding as Terra’s discoveries of caches. Ages 12–up. (Feb.)

Brown, noted for his numerous picture-book biographies of lesser-known figures, here offers a slightly older audience “you are there”–style accounts of two signal dates in American history. Expert pacing, novelistic incorporation of quotations and well-observed but straightforward reportage draw readers into the action. He humanizes complicated ideas. For example, Let It Begin opens vividly as King George III wins the Seven Years’ War: “Celebration was surely in order. But George could not celebrate,” writes Brown, quickly explaining how Britain’s war debt contributes to the start of the Revolution. Looking at the Titanic, Brown explains the causes of the disaster and, describing the passengers’ and crew’s behavior, finds the details that speak loudest (a passenger stuck on the sinking ship gives his life jacket to a woman boarding a lifeboat). His subtle watercolor-and-pencil compositions skillfully capture moments in the text—people’s facial expressions; the blood of battle; rushing, roiling, icy water; as well as both the valiant and understated gestures of some of the actors. Top-notch. Ages 6–10. (Dec.)