Children's Book Reviews: Week of 5/18/2009

While Durand’s illustrations of Big Rabbit’s attempts to get rid of a bad mood will have readers giggling, the resolution of the conflict is disappointing. The expressive, orange rabbit is charming, despite his grumpiness, and his bad mood is portrayed as a furry, knuckle-dragging, gray creature who rides the vacuum cleaner, eats a radio, wipes his boogers on the carpet and “stuck to him like glue.” When Big Rabbit’s friends and even his mother don’t answer his pleas for help, he finally hits on the idea of putting arrows on the floor to show the recalcitrant, toddleresque bad mood the way out. However, it’s not until everyone surprises him with birthday presents that Big Rabbit’s bad mood actually disappears (“Not a hair, not a booger, not a trace”). While the visual representation of an emotional metaphor is witty, children may find the bad mood’s personification perplexing, and the misleading suggestion that a surprise birthday party is the best way to get rid of a bad mood undercuts the book’s usefulness. Ages 2–6. (May)

When Sylvie, an inquisitive and impulsive young flamingo, asks her mother why they are pink, she’s told it is because they eat shrimp. This response triggers both Sylvie’s imagination and appetite. Sampling green palm leaves, purple grapes and chocolate ice cream (“She thought she’d look yummy in chocolate!”), she turns those colors. Sylvie’s nibbling become more adventurous and her transformations all the sillier: she assumes the stripes of a beach towel and the paisley print of a swimsuit. But all this wreaks havoc on her stomach. Now exhibiting various colors and patterns simultaneously, she decides to resume her shrimp diet. Sattler’s punchy text and expressive paintings convey Sylvie’s ample personality with panache (the leggy flamingo strikes bold—and rather coquettish—poses as she delights in each of the colors) against paint-smeared beachy backdrops. Though she finally decides to be true to herself, the heroine displays her spunkiness at the story’s end, as her tail duplicates the stripes of the rainbow lollipop she indulges in for dessert, leaving kids with a fittingly whimsical parting image. Ages 3–6. (May)

When his parents threaten to teach him responsibility by giving him a whale, Billy Twitters isn’t worried: “It’s not like you can just have one delivered to your house overnight.” But he’s wrong. Rex’s (Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich) howler of a double-page spread shows an enormous trailer attached to a “FedUp” truck, an equally massive blue whale suspended from tow straps. Rex’s Mad magazine–style artwork—realistic enough to drive home the humor and full of clever touches—is the perfect choice for Barnett’s high-concept debut. Billy hauls the whale to school behind his bike, a skateboard under the creature for easier sliding; confronts the school bully and the school geek (new allies, in league against him); and struggles with blue whale upkeep, like collecting 10,000 gallons of seawater at mealtime (“Try the ocean, son,” his father suggests). Billy never names his whale—it’s more of a burden than a pet. The abrupt ending disappoints somewhat, given the uproarious pages that precede it (the contributors also work in scientific information about blue whales—though readers, between laughs, may not notice). Still, tons of fun. Ages 3–7. (June)

Inspired by the felt animal finger puppets Spires creates, this illustrator’s (The Red Shoes) quirky authorial debut tells of an Antarctic resident who wearies of his fish diet. Tempted by news that creatures in the northern hemisphere lead “the good life eating cupcakes,” Penguin sets out to sample this treat. But when he flies off under his own power, Walrus and Polar Bear pop out from behind the page (“Stop right there!”) and inform the bird that penguins can’t fly. The story resumes, with an airplane transporting Penguin to the Arctic; there he again encounters Walrus and Polar Bear—but no cupcakes (he finally gets some on the flight home). If not especially memorable, Spires’s slightly wooden cartoon characters have personality. Adults and kids alike should be amused by the meta-narratives, as well as sidebar notes that “correct” the characters’ occasional misinformation (after Walrus claims to be on a “strict kelp” diet: “Walruses don’t eat kelp.... Unfortunately this walrus has self-esteem issues. She was trying to meet an unrealistic physical ideal”). A humorous story, but like the confection Penguin craves, light in substance. Ages 3–7. (May)

One night, a girl named Rose is visited by magical lions with moony, almost human faces that “climb out of the sea.” One lion, with a stringy yellow mane that resembles Rose’s red hair, comes to her room and takes her flying through outer space, where they encounter dreamy, galactic creatures: “Past Pegasus, the horse,/ And all his herd stampeding;/ Past Pisces and her fish-kids,/ Gluttonously feeding.” When Rose and the lion get caught up in a “cosmic suction cup” (a black hole), Cetus, the “mighty stellar whale,” and a unicorn rescue them. They then return home to “that isolated beach/ Where every lion frolics now,/ A happy kid with each.” Swarner’s (Before You Were Born) fantastical shapes and the textural, surreal landscapes are so evocative that Greenberg’s (Crocs!) text can occasionally feel gratuitous, though dashes of science and fancy lend the lullaby-like verse freshness (“They jump-rope crescent moons,/ Hopscotch asteroids./ They scamper and they frisk/ Through interstellar voids”). Imaginative readers should leave the pages wishing for a midnight visit from a lion of their own. Ages 5–8. (May)

A family story inspired Cutler’s (The Birthday Doll) picture book about the struggles of Jewish immigrants in early-20th-century Canada. After his father dies, Ben’s family has trouble making ends meet, even when Mama works extra hours and Ben’s older siblings work full-time. Eager to help, Ben lands a job tryout with Mr. Green the hatmaker, delivering hat linings to the factory across town, via bicycle. His first run ends in disaster—sending boy, bike and linings tumbling on a busy thoroughfare, and eliciting the name-calling of the book’s title. But Ben’s crash ends up being an epiphany. Cutler’s text effectively captures its setting and a family’s sense of urgency in tough times. Oddly, the author doesn’t explain the term “guttersnipe,” other than noting that Ben knew it was an “ugly word.” McCully’s (Mirette on the High Wire) watercolor renderings of period clothing, streetcars and colorful storefronts along cobblestone streets give the book a strong sense of place. And her scenes of the rainbow-hued hat linings taking flight are a perfect match for the story’s upbeat ending. Ages 5–8. (May)

The fiendish Miss Breakbone—a teacher with her own electric chair and a subscription to Guard Dog Lovers Monthly—is no match for her students, once they put their heads together. They have no choice: Miss Breakbone has insulted them (“doodling, dozing, don’t-knowing dunderheads!”), confiscated a cat figurine that Junkyard was saving for his mother’s birthday and then dared them to retaliate. Einstein, the genius hero, marshals his classmates’ skills (hypnotism, spitballs, perfect knowledge of movie plots) and pulls off the perfect break-in. Action and zaniness animate every page of this picture book/early reader hybrid, but the story’s real virtue is Newbery winner Fleischman’s (Joyful Noise) appreciation for kids whose loser exteriors hide unexpected talent (each gets an apt nickname). “I nodded to Clips,” Einstein says about the kid whose creations help them enter Miss Breakbone’s lair. “His reading scores were low. His math scores were worse. But if they tested for paper-clip chains...” Roberts’s (The Dumpster Diver) drawings, with their delicate lines and sly cultural references (Miss Breakbone looks like a cold war–era prison guard), convey just the right note of dastardly charm. Schoolchildren will adore this story of pupil revenge. Ages 6–10. (June)

Entertainingly headstrong Brenda is devastated that her favorite uncle is getting married. And her longstanding dream of wearing a gold lamé flower girl frock fizzles when she hears that the bride, Florrie, envisions her flower girls in lavender taffeta. On top of that, she’ll be walking the aisle with Florrie’s niece, Lucy, whose golden curls are a far cry from Brenda’s “strands of spaghetti” tresses. Just when she’s sure things can’t get any worse, her uncle and Florrie elope. Since they now have “robbed her of her happiness not once but twice,” Brenda announces, with characteristic melodrama, “I’m never, ever going to speak to them again for as long as I live.” Not easily defeated, Brenda and Lucy pull together a heartwarming after-the-fact celebration. Cake and punch recipes make for an appropriately festive appendix to this lively early chapter book from the creators of Baby Babka, the Gorgeous Genius. Brenda’s robust personality drives the narrative as well as the art, as Chess’s folksy watercolors capture the girl’s expressions, which vacillate wildly between outrage and exhilaration. Ages 6–9. (May)

Blurring the lines between graphic novel and chapter book, Wight’s (My Dead Girlfriend) children’s book debut introduces a protagonist as singular as his name. Frankie Pickle (short for Franklin Piccolini) fuels his everyday life with fantasy. When sent to clean his room, he imagines himself a convict: “Been here so long I forget what the sun looks like,’’ he says, scrawling a sixth hatch mark on the prison wall underneath “minutes here.” When Frankie’s mother declares that he doesn’t have to clean his room anymore, at first “Frankie was living on cloud swine.” But when even his dog won’t go in his room and his sister declares he has the “natural aroma” of “ripe garbage,” Frankie—as an intrepid adventurer—makes his room “so clean it made soap look dirty.” Wight’s b&w comic illustrations brim with action and wit––a moldy sandwich turns into an eight-eyed monster and Frankie makes joyful snow angels in clutter––but Frankie’s tone—funny without being smart alecky—is Wight’s finest achievement. Full of rib-tickling irony, this is a strong start for the series. Ages 7–10. (May)

Percy Jackson’s fifth and final adventure begins with a blast and gets increasingly more explosive. It reads less like a novel than a 400-page battle scene set in Manhattan, pitting Percy, Annabeth, Grover & Co. against a pantheon of monsters intent on reaching the portal to Mount Olympus (located on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building). In other words: fans will not be disappointed. All the action takes place in the days before Percy’s 16th birthday, on which a prophecy has foretold “a single choice shall end his days.” Readers who have watched their dyslexic hero grow into his considerable powers since age 12 will not be surprised by his brave leadership. Or as Percy, facing the Minotaur’s army, puts it in typically wry fashion: “It was now roughly one hundred and ninety-nine to one. I did the natural thing. I charged them.” Details about Luke’s childhood explain his traitorous allegiance to Kronos; Annabeth and Rachel Dare vie for Percy’s attention; and the final clash would keep a Hollywood special effects team busy for years. As the capstone to this beloved series, this story satisfies. And a surprise character takes on the mantle of Oracle, instantly issuing a new prophecy that suggests, happily, there’s more fun with the demigods to come. Ages 10–up. (May)

This exciting time-travel adventure opens three years after Jake Ransom’s archeologist parents have disappeared in the Yucatán, leaving him and his sister, Kady, nothing but their journals and a Mayan coin, broken in half. The siblings receive an invitation to attend an exhibition of Mayan antiquities at the British Museum, and are soon after catapulted into the prehistoric past where ancient Mayans, Romans, Egyptians, Vikings and even Neanderthals have joined together to do battle with the Skull King, a creature so evil that he only appears wrapped in shadows, “as if the darkness were scared of what lay hidden at its heart and attempted to hide the horror from the world.” Jake, an Indiana Jones in the making, and Kady, a cheerleader who learns to channel her inner Viking, fight the Skull King to a draw, discovering clues about their missing parents. In this series opener, Rollins (The Last Oracle) presents a wide range of interesting historical information while telling a rollicking good story that should please a wide range of readers—and maybe even some of his adult fans. Ages 10–up. (May)

Parker introduces young readers to private investigator Spenser, star of his bestselling adult novels, at age 14. Short chapters and Spenser’s signature quick-fire delivery propel the story, which reveals the ways young Spenser uses the survival skills and scruples passed on to him by his loving, wise father and the two uncles who are raising him in a small town (“They took turns with everything.... So none of them got ground down, so to speak, by being the only parent”). Knowing when to defend himself and when to run away comes in handy when the teen encounters a black bear in the woods, rescues his friend from her drunken, gun-toting father and is ambushed by a gang of racist thugs after he protects a bullied Mexican peer. The narrative alternates between the youth’s adventures and the reminiscences of an adult Spenser, who appears with his longtime love interest, Susan, in less compelling, present-day chapters in which he—at her prodding—offers insight into his past. Carefully tempered emotion, full-throttle suspense and subtle humor should win Parker’s (Edenville Owls) detective enthusiastic new fans. Ages 12–up. (May)

Long Island girl Jesse O’Rourke is a down-to-earth Have-Not among the glamorous, vacuous Haves at Hampton High. But all this changes when she’s one of the lucky six chosen to star in a reality-TV show called The Real Hampton Beach. From the authors of The Nanny Diaries, this first venture into YA functions as a reality-TV exposé about how the genre corrupts those who play along—even a regular girl like Jesse. For $40,000 toward college, Jesse risks everything—her best friendship, dignity, values, respect from her parents and even getting the right guy—as TV producers stage ridiculous, fake situations for these high school “stars” that lead to humiliation, backstabbing and other shock-value fare. And things only get worse once the show airs (“Must stop looking every time someone calls my name,” thinks Jesse after passersby harass her while she’s picking up the mail.) Though the endgame payback lacks punch—its purpose is to set up a sequel—with this lighter-than-air page-turner the authors deliver a fast-paced, fun read. Ages 14–up. (June)

It’s summertime and hormones are raging for the high school students at Yale University’s camp for the arts. Olivia arrives with pentup anger over walking in on her dad cheating on her mom with a student, and is determined to write about it. Though Olivia has instituted a personal “boy boycott,” when dashing Max develops an immediate crush on her, her skepticism fuels her writing. Her musical, a reworking of Much Ado About Nothing, mirrors Olivia and Max’s own ups and downs and features many libidinous musical numbers (“Threesome, threesome, threesome/ How can I get me some?/ ... The things we will be doing/ Like the pornos I’ve been viewing”). The characters’ actual dialogue is equally sex-drenched—the American Piecrowd will love it—though the relentless and explicit banter can be exhausting. With a skeevy reinterpretation of Pat the Bunnyand a crudely funny song about Bella Swan likely to draw the ire of Twilighters, Wizner’s (Spanking Shakespeare) sophomore novel may reach new heights—or, possibly, depths—of notoriety. Ages 14–up. (May)

Teenagers will likely bite at the fun premise of Diver’s YA debut, first in a planned series. When Gina awakens in a grave and discovers she’s a vampire—her senior prom didn’t end well—one of her first concerns is facing “an all-liquid diet, a life without tanning options.” She continues to focus on fashion (and to deliver feisty insults) even as she finds herself embroiled in (and eventually leading) a vampire war, which involves a mysterious prophecy—and many of her former classmates. The story’s appeal lies in Gina’s snarky narration, though readers may have trouble tracking all of the characters. The plot takes a while to arrive at its gory action scenes, complete with severed limbs and garlic bombs. Readers will be entertained by some great one-liners (“Yup, just a day in the life of a typical teen... only instead of dodging gossip and pop quizzes, it was stakes and [holy water] spritzing”) and a nascent romance for Gina, though the open-ended finale leaves answers about the prophecy and other questions until a later volume. Ages 14–up. (May)

A good pop-up book always delights—here are a few new notable ones.

First in the Sabuda & Reinhart Pop-Ups series, this book marries form and function, with pop-up babies taking center stage while additional babies, whose hands move via pull-tabs, form simple hand signs. Examples include “eat” (“Place closed fingertips to lips”), “hurt” (“Touch index fingers together over painful area”), and “Mommy” (“Spread fingers, tap thumb on chin”). The playful borders—shapes, fruits, animals and toys—and the large three-dimensional figures, give it crib appeal, while giving parents an alternative to more instructional books on baby sign language. All ages. (May)

With zany irreverence, Carter’s bugs return in a pop-up book that features them popping out of a red schoolhouse, then hiding in colorful, themed boxes. Readers can discover “Who’s in the reading box?” by lifting the flap of a blue box decorated with white letters (26 “Spelling Bees” are inside). In the “music box,” the “Beetle Bugs,” dressed as their namesakes, pop up, singing “yeah, yeah, yeah.” The text may be simple, but the well-executed pop-ups will entertain. Ages 3–up. (June)

The star of several picture books, Rainbow Fish is back in his first pop-up book, with the sparkling protagonist meeting some other aquatic creatures. The interactive elements add layering and a sense of movement as Rainbow navigates the underwater world: “Who is hiding behind those leaves? Six small seahorses!” On another spread, a blue whale tail flops up and down as the discombobulated fish “go tumbling on the Big Whale Ride!” The special effects enhance the familiar, gentle illustrations. Ages 3–up. (May)

Some unexpected “pets” act rambunctious in this high-energy pop-up featuring Staake’s trademark cartoons. A “hairy” pet (a doughy ape) plays a wild game of cards with blue and green children (the cards fly across the room in a pop-up arc); meanwhile, a “toothy” alligator shows off his best assets as a “cool” lion (dressed like a beatnik) plays with his drumsticks. The madness concludes with the pets catching a ride on a big, 3-D yellow bus: “Now It’s Time for School, Pets!” The goofy incongruity will win over young readers. A large zoo poster is included. Ages 4–8. (May)

Whether a sequel or well along in an established series, these titles should keep readers tuned in.

In this follow-up to Where Is the Cake?, creatures of many species make their way on a wordless journey (with moments of dark humor) toward a picnicking location (each animal has its own personality and side story). When two pink cakes—not so carefully transported in covered silver platters—go missing during the trip, chaos erupts among the animals who, after a downhill chase, discover the thieves and recover the cakes. Readers will enjoy following each character’s mini-dramas, which give the book a Richard Scarry–style appeal, to the conclusion. Ages 3–6. (June)

Slipshod, overweight penguin Tacky joins his more orderly penguin companions—“Goodly, Lovely, Angel, Neatly, and Perfect”—on a trip to Camp Whoopihaha in his seventh outing. As always, Tacky brings his larger-than-life personality to the excursion: his camping supplies include a television, pizza and roller blades; his “arts and crafts” project is a sprawling, abstract style painting; and he tips the canoe and can’t tell a good scary story. Munsinger’s art adds plenty of humor, up through the finale when Tacky proves his worth. Ages 3–7.(May)

In the second comic book–style title to star brother and sister mice Benny and Penny, the fussy duo track down a mysterious “new kid” who may have climbed over the fence into their yard and stolen Benny’s pail (a “no-no”). But when they meet the culprit (a mole in a polka-dot dress, green flippers and goggles), they re-evaluate the situation. Thought bubbles and dynamic expressions make the simple story come to life; early readers will easily identify the emotional states of the three characters and predict the playful outcomes. Ages 4–up. (May)

The star of Pinkaliciousand Purplicious discovers an affinity for gold, in the form of a unicorn with a lustrous, golden mane. Even though Goldie might be imaginary (she turns translucent whenever Pinkalicious’s mother is present), this doesn’t stop the friends from practicing “pinkerrific pirouette[s],” riding on roller skates and playing hide-and-seek. Initially skeptical, Pinkalicious’s brother, Peter, even joins in the fun. Though the pacing can feel a bit erratic, the effervescent (at times, playfully surreal) digital art and ornamental detailing offer treats for eagle-eyed readers. Ages 5–8. (June)

Isadora’s latest interpretation of a fairy tale remains mostly loyal to the story line, but its sensual, mosaiclike collages create depth and texture, evoking the essence of an African savanna. The “large and clumsy” duckling, black and gray to the other ducklings’ bright yellow, is ostracized by the other animals on the farm. But when a “kind farmer” takes him in, he lives with the farmer’s family over the winter. In the spring, he emerges as a lovely swan with inky, blue plumage. A stirring adaptation. Ages 5–8. (May)

The family from Welcome to Your World, Baby return in a similarly cheerful companion book. The two sisters (the younger one is now a toddler) spend an active day with their dad cavorting in the park with their dog, playing hopscotch and having a tea party. Self-assured older sister Frankie narrates: “When Violet goes down for a nap (she still naps, but I don’t have to anymore), Dad and I sit on the couch and watch basketball.” The plot is light, but readers should appreciate the feel-good message. Ages 3–8. (May)

In this humorous outing, Gerald the elephant and Piggie debate whether or not “elephants can dance.” Gerald, who is convinced that he cannot (he tells Piggie to look it up in the “What Elephants Can Do” book) decides to give it a go nonetheless. Results are mixed, with Gerald basically doing the opposite of each instruction. Willems’s characteristically sparse cartoon images and the use of speech balloons portray the comical dilemma with clarity, making it an ideal pick for early readers. Ages 4–8.(June)

Rebecca Rubin, a brand-new American Girl, is a nine-year-old Jewish girl growing up in 1914 New York, with aspirations to become an actress. When Rebecca learns of her relatives’ struggle to gain passage to America from Russia, she wants to help and, after secretly earning some money, she is faced with a difficult moral choice. American Girl fans should find Rebecca’s story compelling and will enjoy the glimpse they’re given into this chapter of immigration history. A concluding section provides additional historical information as well as a glossary including some Yiddish, Hebrew and other terms. Ages 8–up.(May)