Children's Book Reviews: Week of 4/6/2009

A busy mother hen makes the titular plea to her family in this funny debut about teamwork. After yet another week of running out of groceries and household items despite trips to the store—“We had pancakes, but no syrup.... We had cookies, no milk”—Mom flips out. So when she serves up a desperation dinner of “peanut butter and pickled grub on macaroni casserole” it's sufficient motivation to get Papa and the peeps to finally fall in line, helping with list-making and shopping. Plenty of families will see themselves in Darbyshire's universal and humorous situations, and the minimal yet sometimes dramatic text will have great appeal for preschoolers. (“It was... boo-boo, no Band-Aid... wet baby, no diaper... macaroni, no cheese... peanut butter, no jelly. I don't even want to talk about the toilet paper.”) Darbyshire uses bold blocks of color as background and a smudgy black outline for figures and objects. Her gentle anthropomorphizing of her chickens makes their oval heads, dot eyes and triangular orange beaks especially expressive—a feat to cluck about. Ages 3–5. (Apr.)

War has reduced a boy's home to ruins, and a heavily patrolled barbed-wire fence surrounds his land, keeping him from the verdant hills he loves (“The boy knew that cool streams flowed in those hills. He had once gone there with his father, but now the hills were on the wrong side of the wire”). But by cultivating a tiny grapevine sprig and discovering a like-minded girl on the other side of the fence, the boy gains hope for a future of peace and reconciliation. Foreman's soft, gray-toned watercolors (punctuated, as the story unfolds, with the brighter springtime hues of the mammoth grapevine and the birds that inhabit it) set an appropriately somber tone and move the story forward through the boy's triumphs and setbacks (soldiers rip the vine from the fence, the colors become muted as winter descends). But the text is overly literal and emotionally heavy-handed (“Let the soldiers return, thought the boy. Roots are deep, and seeds spread....”), and even children with a strong political conscience may bridle at its preachiness. Ages 3–up. (May)

Who should become the First Pup in the Obama White House? In this whimsical imagining by the father-daughter team behind Henry the Dog with No Tail, animals across the globe take the matter into their own paws—and not all contenders for the honor are canines. “ 'I'd make a fine puppy,' squeaked a guinea pig named Sam. 'I'm starting barking lessons tomorrow,' bragged a turtle named Marple.” When a contest and a lottery fail to determine a suitable winner, an older dog quotes from an ancient dictate outlining the qualifications for “a true presidential puppy.” Two pooches and the guinea pig fit the bill and head to Washington, only to discover that the First Family already has a puppy (cleverly pictured only as an indistinct blur, which may help extend this story's shelf life). In an upbeat resolution, the trio of would-be pets is invited to stay and play with the White House's new four-legged resident. Rendered in brush, ink and watercolor markers, Jules Feiffer's characteristically fluid, unadorned illustrations produce an animated animal cast, easily matching the narrative's buoyancy. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

This debut picture book for both author and illustrator offers a droll take on the monster-under-the-bed theme. Ethan is distressed when he peers under the mattress for his monster but finds only a note: “Gone fishing. Back in a week.” How can he fall asleep without Gabe's “ragged breathing. His nose-whistling. The scrabbling of his uncut claws” and the “spooky green ooze” he emits? Concluding that he needs a substitute, the bug-eyed boy knocks on the floorboards to summon one, but the beasts that appear one by one aren't sufficiently menacing (“The whole point of having a monster, after all, was to keep me in bed, imagining all the scary stuff that could happen if I got out”). Ethan engages in spry repartee with the monsters he rejects before Gabe reappears, having cut short his trip. Dramatic in perspective, McWilliam's exaggerated, digitally colored art renders the monsters in a spectrum of neon hues and outlandish shapes. The collaborators ably balance some bedtime chills with humor, and Ethan's enthusiasm for his monster should prove infectious. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Barber's debut stars a pea that dreams of becoming a tree, but the story's logic (as well as its verse) falters. Initially, the other peas scorn the bow tie–wearing pea: “you're too wee to become a tree!” Upon being picked, the pea is headed for a tuna casserole, but falls to the ground, where a worm eats him. “Do not be sad for the little green pea,” says the worm, revealed to be the narrator. “You see, a pea is a seed,” it explains, somewhat obliquely. “We worms do the mixing.... We especially like poo (we really do!)/ 'cause out of it all; something grew, grew, grew.” On the final page, readers see three trees on a hillside; the tallest wears the pea's red bow tie. Readers may have questions. If peas are seeds, can they really grow into trees? Does the pea know he's a tree? And what does poo have to do with it? In Keiser's soft, watercolor spreads, some creatures, like the bespectacled worm, are anthropomorphized, while others are more naturalistic, reflecting the tug-of-war between the whimsical and the factual. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Bearn makes her debut with a trio of comfortingly old-fashioned tales about a pair of kindly mice, living in a forgotten broom closet in dilapidated Rose Cottage, home to Arthur and Lucy Mildew and their father. Tumtum and Nutmeg's residence—Nutmouse Hall—is as splendid as the Mildews' home is forlorn, and the good-hearted couple secretly takes on the task of putting, and keeping, the cottage in order. Unexpected adventures ensue: in each of the stories the decidedly nonadventurous mice rescue friends and defeat enemies, always putting themselves in great danger and emerging victorious. Very British in setting, tone and supporting characters (a blustery mouse general, an elegant elderly ballet mistress and her troupe of young ballerinas, greedy pirate rats), the stories are filled with descriptions of good food, cheering fires and warm beds. Price's black-and-white line drawings have a scratchy, comic air that brings a welcome edge to the gentle storytelling. While some may find the adventures on the quiet side, the sympathetic characters, enchanting setting and quickly paced plots will hold readers' interest. Ages 6–9. (Apr.)

“Mystery. And the dark of night coming down all around him. And the squirrel didn't know where he was.” That's the predicament of a squirrel that has fallen from his tree in this thoughtful debut by Tony Award–winning playwright Rabe. Alternating chapters use realism to contrast the perspectives of the animal and the boy, Jonathan, who takes him home. To the bewildered squirrel, the boy's touch is an inexplicable “warmth,” and his cage is “silver branches keeping him away from whatever was beyond them.” To Jonathan, a cute potential pet (dubbed Mr. Wellington), becomes fully realized as a wild animal that is suffering in captivity. By sharing the squirrel's eye view—and the wisdom of a naturalist who helps Mr. Wellington—this compelling story nurtures a healthy sense of respect for wild animals. While clearly defining the species' differences, Rabe draws comforting, if occasionally heavy-handed parallels, suggesting that growing up is a challenge all can meet, whether learning to play hockey or cracking open an acorn. Final art not seen by PW. Ages 6–10. (Apr.)

Newbery Honor–author Engle (The Surrender Tree) again mines Cuban history for her third novel in verse, this time focusing on Jewish refugees who sought asylum from the Nazis in Havana. Covering the period from 1939 to 1942, first-person poems alternate among 13-year-old Paloma, whose father is a corrupt Cuban bureaucrat; David, a Russian immigrant; and Daniel, whom readers meet aboard a ship in Havana harbor. Daniel, also 13, is alone: “My parents are musicians—/ poor people, not rich./ They had only enough money/ for one ticket to flee Germany.” The boy's isolation anchors the story emotionally. Daniel is befriended by Paloma, who feels guilt over her father's acceptance of bribes for visas, and mentored by David, who warns Daniel that he must tame “three giants”—the heat, the language and loneliness. Worries about German spies among the refugees suddenly makes the “J” label on Daniel's passport a coveted symbol, as only non-Jewish Germans are arrested. Engle gracefully packs a lot of information into a spare and elegant narrative that will make this historical moment accessible to a wide range of readers. Ages 12–up. (Apr.)

Global warming is rapidly changing the world in Lloyd's accomplished first novel, in which the United Kingdom, still reeling from the Great Storm, becomes the first nation on Earth to institute mandatory carbon rationing, a 60% decrease in all energy use. Sixteen-year-old Laura just wants to pass her classes, play with her band and maybe catch the eye of cute neighbor Ravi. With the weather tipping wildly out of control, she and her highly dysfunctional family (“We are officially the bad family on the street now, the family that other families call the cops on”) must contend with blackouts, water shortages and riots, followed by torrential rains and the flooding of London. This gritty eco-thriller, made up of Laura's diary entries throughout the year 2015, features a nicely developed sense of place, complex and believable characters and an all-too-plausible near-future scenario, as Britons make do, pull together and triumph over adversity. Fans of Cory Doctorow's Little Brother and Meg Rosoff's How I Live Now should find this book a gripping read. Ages 12–up. (Apr.)

Valentine's second novel (following the Guardian Children's Fiction Prize winner Me, the Missing, and the Dead) focuses on British teenager Rowan and her younger sister, Stroma, who are left to fend for themselves following their older brother Jack's sudden death two years earlier. Their parents having since divorced, Rowan must care for Stroma and their depressed mother. Rowan continues to find herself lonely and overwhelmed; “It's hard to adjust your eyes to something that's dark where it should be light,” she reflects while staring at a negative she is given, which turns out to be a photo of her brother. A chance encounter with Harper, a world traveler who lands in her town, leads her to meeting lively Bee and developing a whole new “family” (“Some families we get without asking, while others we choose. And I chose those two”). The story is delicately written, and mysteries and revelations involving Jack propel it forward. A solid tale of what it takes to grow up and how to ask for help. Ages 14–up. (Apr.)

Northrop's debut is one dark ride, as events spin out of control for three friends who haven't had many lucky breaks. High school sophomores Micheal (the narrator), Tommy, Mixer and Bones are a pretty tight crew. (And, yes, that's how Micheal's name is spelled: “Mom or Dad, one of them dropped the ball on that one, probably Dad, in the hospital or wherever it is you fill out that paperwork.”) Then Tommy goes missing. It isn't the first time, so the guys aren't initially too worried, but as time passes—and following increasingly unsettling interactions with their English teacher, Mr. Haberman, during a unit on Crime and Punishment—they begin to suspect that the teacher is involved in Tommy's disappearance. Micheal, who has an eye injury stemming from a childhood incident, is a sympathetic but unreliable narrator—something he himself recognizes (“Having a messed-up eye, you know, it'll affect how you see things”). The brutal narration, friendships put through the wringer and the sense of dread that permeates the novel will keep readers hooked through the violent climax and its aftermath. Ages 15–up. (Apr.)

Showcasing the art of 13 artists, this resonant book was inspired by a simple yet searing phrase that celebrates the achievements of African-Americans, which was featured, in various versions, online and at rallies during the 2008 presidential campaign. Cook's adaptation pays tribute to 10 individuals, including George Washington Carver, Jesse Owens and Jackie Robinson. These figures' triumphs are shown as part of a seamless continuum: “Martin marched... so Thurgood could rule. Thurgood ruled... so Barack could run. Barack ran... so our children can soar!” The spreads understandably represent an array of artistic styles and media, yet they form a cohesive and affecting collective portrait: a musical staff swathes Pat Cummings's Ella Fitzgerald like a boa, while Shadra Strickland's Ruby Bridges is a small yet determined figure, marching up the schoolhouse steps against a backdrop of protestors. Additional images from Leo and Diane Dillon, James Ransome, E.B. Lewis, Eric Velasquez and others, corroborate Children's Defense Fund founder Marian Wright Edelman's assertion, in the book's foreword, that African-American history is “the story of hope.” Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Darwin and the natural world that fascinated him come into clear focus in this picture-book biography that pairs accessible text with handsome woodcut art. Tinted with watercolors, Caldecott Medalist Azarian's (Snowflake Bentley) illustrations convey the era in which Darwin lived and his devotion to his work (a humorous scene shows Darwin and his brother fleeing the shed where they conducted chemistry experiments, as green gas billows out). Especially compelling are Azarian's depictions of the young naturalist's five-year voyage aboard the HMS Beagle; he's seen excavating fossils and encountering rare species on the Galápagos Islands. McGinty (Thank You, World) includes excerpts from Darwin's correspondence and notebook entries, which illuminate his private concerns and self-questioning. The author also effectively incorporates Darwin's thoughts into her own writing; after the publication of The Origin of the Species, he “braced himself for the worst. Would people say his work was not complete? Would they believe he was speaking out against the church?” These complementary narratives provide a solid portrait offering insight into Darwin's inner self as well as his accomplishments. Ages 6–9. (Apr.)

This lyrical picture-book biography of the reggae icon tells his story in verse, from humble beginnings in a small Jamaican village to his glory days as an influential musician. Told in first person (the “I and I” can mean “we”), 17 poems chronologically plot Marley's life path—combined, the poems (and vibrant acrylics) paint a vivid picture of the poverty and turmoil but also the love, faith and island beauty from which Marley arose. “At Fourteen” describes his entrée into the music scene with Peter Tosh, Joe Higgs and others, while “Island Song” is a rebuke of Jamaican oppression. “Yell-ow green black and red/ I and I a natty dread/ African Arawak Taino/ I am from/ Slave ship mountains/ And Caribbean rum.” While readers may not understand all the verses and terms, Medina's (Love to Langston) thorough endnotes will answer questions, e.g., what the term Babylon means. Watson's (Chess Rumble) majestic art powerfully evokes the people and places that had the strongest influence on Marley, as well as the power he himself would wield. Ages 8–12. (May)

From dating to dieting to cheating, these books provide help for adolescents seeking guidance.

The editors of The Care & Keeping of You respond to girls' letters with topics ranging from hair care to bodily changes to embarrassing situations. The lighthearted tone (the letters are accompanied by illustrations of cartoon girls) treats common dilemmas with rationality and ease: “Remind yourself... that pads and periods are a normal part of life,” reads one response to a mortified girl's letter. While girls with more complex emotional, psychological or health problems may not find the answers they need (concerning eating disorders, the editors recommend getting help from a parent or professional), the assurance of being “normal” should put many worried minds to rest. Ages 8–up. (Mar.)

Weinstein, aka the syndicated columnist “The Ethics Guy,” addresses adolescent ethical dilemmas using a set of five “Life Principles” (Do No Harm, Make Things Better, Respect Others, Be Fair, Be Loving). Posing theoretical situations, Weinstein makes assessments based on the principles (buying student essays online violates the first principle by “diminishing your educational experience”) and suggests an ethical course of action (“If this is the book you're assigned... this is what you have to tackle”). While readers will identify with many of the issues raised (trying marijuana, downloading music without paying, breaking up with someone by e-mail), some may find the approach didactic. Final art not seen by PW. Ages 10–14. (Apr.)

This humorous guide provides insight into the elusive universe of boys, using questions, answers and quotations from real teens. Nebulous topics like “hooking up” (“by definition, hook-ups don't lead to boyfriends”) and being “just friends” (in one image, a beaming girl is clearly thinking “skateboarding partner” while the boy beside her has a heart in his thought bubble) are addressed with oodles of pop-culture literacy. The plethora of “how to” sections (an illustrated guide to kissing), lists (including mood-setting playlists featuring Avril Lavigne and Sleater-Kinney) and “Extra Credit” quizzes provide an entertaining tour of love and dating etiquette for beginners. More seasoned daters may find the advice formulaic. Ages 13–up. (May)

These books have unique formats that invite reader participation and work particularly well with their content.

A book about service machines combines seamlessly integrated fold-out pages with delicate artistry. An “Action News helicopter” hovers over traffic, its spinning, lime-green blades a painterly blur. “Is there an accident ahead?” readers are asked. Lifting the full-page flap reveals that, rather, “a family of ducks is crossing the road.” Elsewhere, a “shiny red tugboat must hurry. Someone needs help!”; folding out the page shows the tugboat safely pulling a container ship under a drawbridge. Surprising use of color (a railroad crossing sign lights up against a swirling lavender backdrop) make the mechanical subject matter, always a favorite, spring off the page. Ages 2–6. (May)

When Milo—a cat in overalls, with two (slightly vampiric) pointed teeth—wants some milk like his sister (she's a little dog), he struggles to find just the right “special word” to get his mother (a bunny) to respond. By turning a wheel, readers can spin the possibilities—“Abracadabra!”; “Floopindoodle!”—into place. When Milo finally speaks the magic word, Mommy moves “quick as a bunny” via a foldout panel (though he has to learn another special word once she brings him his milk). Colorful art, distinctive characters and gentle humor courtesy of the flywheels lend a common lesson some pizzazz. Ages 3–6. (May)

Jolivet's (365 Penguins) b&w illustrations, evocative of block prints, create a montage of world ecosystems in this oversize accordion-style book. In Akurey Island, Iceland, a whale splashes, emerging next to a sleepy Turkish village where “the air smells of thyme and sage.” On subsequent pages, the Hong Kong cityscape transitions into a Romanian meadow, which morphs into the Senegalese savanna. After the final page, the journey begins again, with images of each region at night on the reverse side. Capable of being read like a traditional picture book or unfolded into an enormous chain of images, the book radiates a subtle message of global interconnectedness. Ages 4–up. (Apr.)