Children's Book Reviews: Week of 10/22/2007

Opulence befitting royalty characterizes Spirin's (The Tale of the Firebird) lush, jewel-hued watercolor-and-colored-pencil interpretation of the beloved carol about the three wise men (and their extensive entourages) who traverse afar. A spread rendered in an antique-like palette and featuring a host of singing, trumpeting angels in an inky, starlit sky marks each refrain of the familiar tune. Although younger readers will need help understanding some of the phrasing, they'll be happy to read or hum along, or just gaze at the sumptuously outfitted parade of camels, elephants, horses and kings making their way to Bethlehem. All ages. (Oct.)

The traditional carol receives a dash of New Mexican spice as Sturges (Bridges Are to Cross) moves the backdrop to the American Southwest. Chipper animal amigos in the village square offer a gift of a piñata for the piñon tree on the first day of Christmas, while in a parallel visual storyline, a motherly-looking badger begins whipping up some bizcochitos (holiday cookies). Ignoring the 12-day sequence of the text, Wolff (the Miss Bindergarten books) shows the action as continuous: soon a kaleidoscope of local color and sound transforms the square, and the furry baker produces a tray of festive treats. One quibble: young readers may have trouble distinguishing all the unfamiliar creatures (11 mariachi, 10 kachina leapin') that keep being piled on to the full-to-bursting village scenes. Ages 3-6. (Oct.)

Intricate and elegant cut-paper designs enliven Moore's poem with black silhouetted figures, peek-through pages and one glorious pop-up at the end. Readers will be captivated by the striking contrasts: dark human and animal figures and a few dramatic splashes of red, gold and green playing against creamy backgrounds of freshly fallen snow and bright December moonlight. Finely rendered and fun-to-spot details—e.g., mice playing in the attic—will also keep readers poring over this book's sturdy pages. Ages 4-up. (Oct.)

Dateline: Down on the Farm. In a recasting of Clement C. Moore's poem, a band of bickering barn mates receives a request from Santa to be his relief sleigh team while the reindeer take a break. Quick thinking, teamwork—and some balloons—help the cacophonous crew finally bring peace and toys to all. The members of Newbold's anthropomorphic menagerie sport textured fur, fleece and feathers, as well as exaggerated expressions (some might call them over-the-top). Far more kid-friendly than Gribnau's rendition (reviewed below), this outing substitutes silliness for Moore's sense of wonder. Ages 3-6. (Oct.)

Flying cows? That's just one of the liberties the tenderfoot author takes in shifting the Moore chestnut to a cowboy-centric setting. But a focus on the hardscrabble life of a rancher leaves little room for child-friendly detail or holiday cheer in this re-imagining of the poem, which references “chaw,” and a “nip” to ease a bad hip. During the Christmas Eve encounter, an un-jolly Santa is roughed up, lassoed and nearly dragged by a horse before the rancher vaguely recognizes the red suit. No wonder the rancher concludes, “And somehow I knew [Santa] wouldn't be back”—readers might not be, either. All ages. (Oct.)

Impossible to read without breaking into song, the lyrics to this classic tune translate into a warm and buoyant picture book. Many “Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow” will soon be caught up in the song's feel-good sentiment as captured in the fetchingly festive artwork. Using a close-up perspective, Barrette (Thanks for Thanksgiving) makes readers feel like a part of the several families shown gathering in their cozy alpine-village homes for favorite holiday customs. Her playfully cherubic cast, reminiscent of Diane Goode's characters, exudes loads of cheer. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

Jeffers (Brother Eagle, Sister Sky) raises the curtain on an energetic and child-friendly distillation of the Nutcracker ballet (as opposed to the full-length E.T.A. Hoffman fairy tale). Here ballerinas in an array of tutus pirouette and waltz through the magical elements of that tale, familiar to many young dance students. Jeffers's soft watercolors, adopting a range of perspectives, capture both the drama of the classic story and the elegance of choreography, in a volume likely to leave youngsters longing to attend a live performance. Ages 3-8. (Oct.)

After seeing her first performance of The Nutcracker, Kepley pays “extra special attention” in ballet class, and she herself auditions for the production the following fall. She has to wait a whole week for the letter “from the ballet” that tells her she's landed a part. So what if it involves standing stock-still? (“Suppose you have to sneeze?” asks Kepley's mother.) DePalma's straightforward text and streamlined, representational watercolor illustrations look simple, but they incorporate the details that authenticate the story and make readers feel like insiders: the girls giggling at rehearsal, dancers in costume taking pictures of each other, the signs in the costume room. There's plenty of warmth here, too, from an older dancer's whispered “Good job!” after Kepley completes her first performance, to her utter joy in her small part. Neatly turned. Ages 4-8. (Sept.)

The truth is that once we weren't children anymore, we never did believe Grandpa's story, not really—as much as we might have wanted to.... We still loved listening to it, though. Christmas nights would never have been the same without it.” Voiced by an indulgent but typically skeptical youth, these opening lines frame a captivating retelling of the Nativity as experienced by the youngest shepherd, whose father and uncles have left him behind to look after the flock as they follow the star to Bethlehem. When the angel Gabriel overhears the boy's lamenting the unfairness of it all, he drops in to make things “a little fairer” and whisk the boy to the manger and back, “lickety-split.” Morpurgo's tone blends reverence with wit, a combination matched in Blake's pen-and-ink and watercolor cartoons of heavenly choruses, zooming angels and the boy shepherd holding an infant Jesus (he “hopes against hope that [the baby] wouldn't cry”). The six-inch-square trim size spells gift book; would-be givers should note the religious nature of the ending. All ages. (Oct.)

Its novelty format is the most distinctive element of this sweet if familiar rhyming rendition of the Nativity story. Animals, alone or with their young, “see a star shining bright,/ Filling the world/ with its silvery light.” Large-scale illustrations take advantage of the oversize pages, letting readers share the perspectives of smiling bear cubs or foxes as they gaze skyward. A foil star gleams through the star-shaped diecut that grows slightly larger on each spread as the story draws closer to Bethlehem. On the final page, where a lamb joins other animals visiting a slumbering, swaddled infant Jesus, the star is revealed in full sparkle: electronic lights blink all around it. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

A young, wide-eyed dromedary in service to wise man Balthazar gets a starring role in this oddly revisionist Nativity story. In Brown's tale, the travelers have clearly taken the long way. After following the bright star for “months,” they arrive bearing gold, frankincense and myrrh not at a Bethlehem stable, but at what appears to be the Nazareth home of Joseph, Mary and Baby Jesus—who in Ferri's soft, luminous pastels is the size of a toddler. Unfortunately, the text's reassuring tone cannot counterbalance its puzzling timetable. Ages 5-8. (Nov.)

This tender tale of a street urchin's wondrous encounter with the Holy Family hits all the right holiday notes. Naomi, a beggar girl eager to spy the royal visitors rumored to be in a nearby stable, rushes over only to find a sleeping woman and a baby—and some gold coins. She's caught stealing, but rather than meting out punishment, the man who apprehends her offers Naomi a meager meal and an invitation: “Come. There's someone I want you to see.” Naomi is entranced by the newborn, and before the family heads from the manger out into the night, she is astonished to receive from them a special gift, a wooden flute that she almost instantly knows how to play. Cockcroft's (Room for a Little One) photo-realistic acrylics set a dreamy tone. Accents of nearly transparent flecks of paint create the effect of watching the drama unfold in a snow globe. Ages 5-8. (Sept.)

One of the best-loved birdbrains in picture books tries to take Santa under her wing in this festive romp. Out of her henhouse on Christmas Eve, Minerva Louise invites herself to the roof party, where the “goats” are sporting their “fanciest horns,” but she decides to rescue that nice “farmer” in the red hat when he falls down the “well.” As usual, Stoeke's humor is pitched just right to preschoolers, and her night-time palette has particular punch. Ages 2-up (Sept.).

Exceptionally nuanced illustrations in Horse's signature pen-and-ink and watercolors of an irresistible animal cast turn an obvious lesson about the importance of sharing into an appetizing holiday story. Making his final appearance in the late author/artist's picture book series, Little Rabbit wakes up on Christmas with a child's single-minded interest in obtaining a particular red sled. Horse conveys a whole world of emotion by just tilting the few curves that delineate Little Rabbit's face. Ages 2-6. (Sept.)

The popular porcine pals make their swan song in this charmer of a holiday volume, which marks the end of Hobbie's series. With Christmas fast approaching and no snow in sight, Toot and Puddle are more jumpy than jolly, each trying to find the perfect present for the other as they wish for white weather. Their caring, odd-couple rapport, similar to that of other favorite fictional friends Frog and Toad or George and Martha, has a comfortable and inviting sweetness; readers of any age can relate to the duo's universal feelings and experiences. Subtle facial expressions and childlike poses (and outfits) render the diminutive, piglet pair instantly endearing. But best friends always have the best ideas, and the piggy pair has its best celebration ever. Young cousin Opal adds a pip of funny pep to the generally cozy proceedings, making this another merry and bright visit to Woodcock Pocket. Ages 3-6. (Oct.)

Would that all sheep were as cute as Russell, the stocking-capped insomniac of Frogsbottom Field. After witnessing Santa's spectacular Christmas Eve sleigh crash, the woolly wonder snaps into action to save the holiday and get the man of the hour—and a clever new mode of toy transport—back in flight. Scotton (Russell the Sheep) knits together a pleasant tale with some silly, snowy scenes featuring a frog friend and a truly excitable Santa. Yet Russell's latest lacks the spark of droll humor that fueled its predecessors; the quirkily introspective sheep's exploits lose something when Santa shares the spotlight. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

More a succession of family anecdotes-in-the-making than a plot-driven story, the holiday installment of a much-loved series finds the adroitly accessorized piglet and her family decking the halls of a house in the country on Christmas Eve. Olivia, charged with “a very special job” (Mom-speak for interrupting the “Santa watch” Olivia and her younger brothers mount by the rain-streaked picture window), proudly shows off the table she has set by herself, topped with a decorated miniature tree: “Why, that's beautiful, darling. Where did you ever find that perfect little…” her mother beams; open the gatefold to see the rest of the room, where a saw and a stool stand next to the family's (decapitated) “…tree?” as the mother falteringly completes the question. Readers will claim other episodes as their own favorites; as usual, Falconer knows how to play pictures and text off each other to maximum comic impact. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

In Kinerk's (Clorinda) rhyming ode to the rewards of giving, it turns out that the bear necessities for a merry Christmas are pretty much the same as human ones. A cub with keen hearing sets out through newly drifted snow to find the faint but joyful noise that has roused him from his seasonal slumber. But his reconnaissance mission is slowed when he stops to aid various animals in distress along the way. Finally locating the sound's source—the home of a snugly gathered family laughing and caroling around a twinkling Christmas tree—bear and company create their own celebration. A tall narrow trim size allows LaMarche room to showcase majestic winter landscapes and a spectrum of soft lamplight, gentle moonglow and shimmering snowflakes. Ages 4-8. (Oct.)

In yet another case of hibernation-interruptus at Christmas (see Bear's First Christmas and Hanna Bear's Christmas), a rabbit on the run from hunters serves as an unexpected alarm clock for a sleeping bear. This time, the ursine napper wakes up from a glorious dream of the first Christmas—which the bear has never heard of before. The new friends soon turn the tables on their startled pursuers and fashion their own holiday celebration. Though the text's Christmas angle feels a bit forced, soft-edged watercolors in wintry grays, whites and blues help convey a sense of mystery, wonder and triumph. Ages 3-up. (Oct.)

With Christmas falling smack in the middle of her sleep, what's a holiday-loving bear to do? Hanna Bear knows just the fix and enlists some of her animal pals to wake her in time for the big day. Unfortunately, Devine tale adds little to a frequently mined story line—see the more winsome Bear's First Christmas (reviewed above) and Karma Wilson's Bear Stays Up for Christmas (2004). Also unfortunately, Cassidy's illustrations fail to ignite the tale's bits of humor. Ages 4-7. (Oct.)

Tharlet's (the Davy books) sweet-faced woodland creatures, including a squirrel in a dashing red scarf and a fawn wearing some sort of folksy ear mittens, are saved by the bell. Well, at least the sound of jingle bells, which leads them to food—a scarcity in the harsh early winter. The mystery jinglers join the animals for a festive and snowy Christmas potluck, heralding the true spirit of sharing. Tharlet's amiable bestiary is a memorably winning crew—wide-eyed, gentle and friendly. And Westerland's light touch (“Osgood told the story of the first Christmas. Donkeys do that especially well”) ensures that her uplifting story never gets treacly. Ages 4-up. (Sept.)

The search is on when Santa's reindeer put out their version of an APB: “Clip-clop, clip-clop, two-by-two./ Santa, Santa! Where are you?” All manner of polar paws (and some fins) get in step and join the hunt on a frigid, frosty arctic night. Could prints in the snow (“Ziggy-zaggy/ tricky track./ Crisscross, crisscross/ doubles back”) be a break in the case? This jaunty, fun-to-say verse has the verve of a kid-friendly whodunit. And Wheeler and Bates's (One Dark Night) snowy sleuths, most notably a gleeful belly-sliding seal pup and “bumbling-tumbling” polar cub shaking off the water from an evening dip, are not to be missed. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

With spot-on storytelling rhythms and pacing, Newbery Medalist DiCamillo spins a tale of compassion and holiday warmth from a most unlikely image. Frances is so preoccupied by the hard-luck organ grinder and monkey she can see from her apartment window that it's hard to focus on the fast-approaching church Christmas pageant. It's not until the man and monkey make their way to the performance (at Frances's invitation) that her words, “Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy,” make perfect sense to her. Ibatoulline's (The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane) WWII-era scenes have a subdued yet comforting glow, illuminated by streetlamps and stage lights. Ages 4-8. (Nov.)

Move over, Gingerbread Boy—there's a new talking baked good fresh out of the oven. Smiling, whispering snowflakes laced with Santa's magic breeze into a family's home, bringing the iced and sugar-sprinkled “cookie angel” to life. Singing carols all the while, the cookie angel must restore order to the unwieldy cast of rambunctious (and manic-looking) ornaments and toys who are likewise enchanted. While the frenzy of such a Christmas-Eve fantasy may intrigue some youngsters, the resolution may strike others as more cloying than sweet, and the dulled candy-hued palette and unnatural proportions in the pictures are less than Vagin's (Here Comes the Cat) best work. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

In expertly wrought watercolors, Pinkney focuses on how light hits certain objects—voluptuous oranges, a new patchwork quilt, a baby doll's yellow frock—which are some literal bright spots for a family holding onto the positive despite their Depression-era struggles. The newspapers that line the walls and three-to-a-bed sleeping conditions fade, ceding to the clan's Christmas observance. McKissack's story shines as well, homing in on the most straightforward language to convey realistic but difficult situations: “Christmas always came to our house, but Santy Claus only showed up once in a while.” Ages 4-8. (Sept.)

Magic abounds on the trail of Coyote, a trickster set on scoring some tasty Christmas grub in this confusing original folktale inspired by Lakota Sioux legend and set on an Indian reservation. Coyote hatches his grandest ruse ever: he disguises himself as Santa and lands an invitation to a kindly clan's Christmas Eve dinner. But the joke's on Coyote when his scheme is upstaged by some meddling by Sister Raven (and, perhaps, by the spirit of Christmas itself). Readers will be just as surprised as Coyote: What exactly is going on when the family opens their gifts from a Santa not even Coyote knows and they find delightful objects for everyone—except an empty box for wheelchair-bound young Davy? (He has regained the use of his legs.) The tale ends on an oddly sour note, not much relieved by the zesty North Dakota snowscapes throughout. Ages 5-9. (Dec.)

Nice work if you can get it. After spending all of December preparing for and executing his globe-spanning toy delivery, Santa spends the rest of the year relaxing and entertaining himself. Reiss (How Murray Saved Christmas) devotes a verse to each month, using tongue-in-cheek imagery (Santa studies elf esteem and basic reindeer labor laws) and occasionally forcing a rhyme. But expansive oil paintings keep the energy high, depicting the jolly fat man zooming off for sushi in Hollywood, sumo wrestling in Japan and lounging on the beach in summer. Ages 4-8. (Sept.)

Young Trevor's got skills—organizational skills—but they only fuel the extreme case of the gimmes that threatens to sap his Yuletide joy in what is almost a cautionary rhyming tale. Nonplussed by his holiday haul, Trevor sets to drafting next year's Christmas list before the morning's wrapping paper and ribbon have time to settle. The resulting gargantuan tome, a months-long project featuring pages stuffed into cardboard boxes spilling out of the house and lined up for blocks, is a silly sight to behold in frenetic scenes suggesting animation cels. After readers endure Trevor's list and several clunky turns of phrase, it's a warm and fuzzy gift that finally spurs the boy's welcome change of heart. Ages 4-8. (Sept.)

What's that smell? It's this stinker of a picture book in which Santa's taste for franks and beans sets alight a noxious Christmas Eve adventure. Although the pseudonymous author rhymes the words with “fart,” his text has neither “heart” nor much “smart”; if only there were something mitch-chivus in place of lines like “ 'I'm going back to the North Pole,'/ Santa said. 'My butt is way out of con-trol.' ” And the putrid green gas clouds pervading Reed's artwork are more funky than funny. Ages 3-7. (Oct.)

Not one but two editions suffice to publish this sure crowd-pleaser by the celebrated McCourt, inspired by a childhood experience of the mother made famous in Angela's Ashes. The plot can be reduced to anecdote: six-year-old Angela worries that the Baby Jesus feels cold in the crèche at the church, so she devises a way to smuggle him home and warm him. In McCourt's hands, however, the story opens a child's view onto a vast world that takes scant notice of her, where “people passing by were not in the mood to be looking at a little girl carrying something white in the dark,” and where she is considered too young to have anything of interest to say, even at home. Angela negotiates with unmistakably childlike logic: frustrated at her difficulty in getting the Baby Jesus over the garden wall (an improvised part of her scheme), she scolds him with empty threats: “ 'Baby Jesus, I have a good mind to leave you there in Mrs. Blake's backyard.' But she couldn't. If God found out, he'd never let her have a sweet or a bun for a whole week.” Rarely, McCourt risks inviting a laugh at Angela's expense (Angela continues, “You're not to be flying around like an angel”), but otherwise he brings consummate skill to his layering of different types of authenticity (in Angela's thinking, in the reactions to the inevitable discovery of the Baby Jesus), and evokes a potent mix of emotions.

Given a traditional storybook format and charged with illustrating a children's edition, Colón (My Mama Had a Dancing Heart) employs his signature, multi-step watercolor and lithograph pencil technique, patterning the colors and surfaces to suffuse the story with warmth and light. The effect stops just short of nostalgic, to hint at a timeless if imperfect past. Candles in the church, streetlamps, a barely seen fire in the hearth all bathe Angela in a steady glow that emphasizes the spiritual dimension of the story. No incidental players stroll into these scenes, and the focus remains on Angela; not even Angela's mother can be seen unobstructed.

Long, ranging far from his illustrations for The Little Engine That Could and Toy Boat, interprets the story with an almost foreboding air, as if giving a form to Angela's trepidation and awareness of her own insignificance. The adult edition, produced in a small, square gift format, suggests the atmosphere of Angela's Ashes, beginning with the cover illustration of chimneys spewing smoke into an evening sky, and continuing with the stony palette of grays and blues rendered in grainy acrylics. Already dark pictures make dramatic use of shadow—sometimes to conceal, sometimes to announce a character's presence. Readers never see Angela's face, and most of the characters, too, are shown with their backs to viewers, sometimes from an even more distancing mid-air perspective. McCourt's humor seems harder to locate in this version; on the other hand, the tender ending comes as more of a surprise. All ages. (Nov.)