Today I’m not writing about classic literature, so dismiss that notion right now, okay? I’m writing about a couple of fun and quirky short chapter books that Louise and I have really enjoyed reading together. We’ve been doing shared/paired reading (or whatever it’s called in the world o’ reading education) in which I read a page and she reads a page, taking it time about (as my Granny would say). The wonderful thing about these little stories is that the chapters are only three to five very short pages each, making the catching of a new reader’s breath very convenient. The book itself is very small in format–about 8″ x 5″, just perfect for six year old hands. While these haven’t been our usual read-alouds, neither in subject matter nor in the way we’ve read them, I think they deserve a place on my list of short chapter books for the youngest listeners.
Maybelle is a cockroach, a creation of Katie Speck (thanks to her grandmother–read the story here). Maybelle lives in the JUST SO home of the Peabodys, and she knows The Rules of being a bug:
When it’s light, stay out of sight; if you’re spied, better hide; never meet with human feet.
However, Maybelle has a hard time actually keeping the rules because of her involvement with her flea-friend Henry and her desire to taste the delicacies at the various dinner parties and teas the Peabodys host. In Maybelle in the Soup, Maybelle ends up being spied at a dinner party, and as a result the Peabodys have their home exterminated. What are the resident insects to do but evacuate? Their evacuation, of course, leads to another adventure, this one in the Grand Hotel. In Maybelle Goes to Tea, Maybelle and Henry get into a scrape because of a pesky fly who doesn’t know The Rules. Maurice the fly ends up knocking himself out when he collides with the window, and Maybelle and Henry feel obligated to save him. That’s not easy, of course, especially because of the resident housecat, Ramona. Paul Rátz de Tagyos‘ illustrations are cartoonish and cute and help me to almost forget that Maybelle is {shudder} a cockroach.
Do I love these stories? Honestly, no. While I wouldn’t consider them twaddle, I just don’t personally enjoy thinking about cockroaches and fleas. However, again I do think they’re worthy of note as beginning chapter books. They’re full of what I’d almost consider gross-out humor, but it stops short of being really gross and is just kind of. . .sweet, in a buggy sort of way. There’s dialogue and action and lots of comic book-esque onomatopoeia: ZIP! BONK! Louise gets a kick out of stories and is always eager for one more chapter, and we can knock out one of these short chapter books in a couple of sittings. These books have provided lots of enjoyment and motivation for my emerging reader, and for that I give them a two thumbs up. (Henry Holt, 2007 & 2008)
Using our time wisely while Lulu has her piano lesson
What stories do you read to your children out of love for your children, not the stories?
I normally wouldn’t review a holiday book so soon after (or so long before?) a holiday, but
this subtle Groundhog Day book is simply too good to miss, no matter the time of year. As the title indicates, Brownie Groundhog and the February Fox is the story of a groundhog named Brownie who appears as expected on February 2 and is met by not only her shadow, but also by a ”small, scrawny fox.” Mr. Fox pounces on her, knocks her flat, and announces, “Hold still. I’m trying to eat you for breakfast.” Well, it turns out that Brownie is wilier than Mr. Fox and offers him lots and lots of excuses why he simply can’t eat her for breakfast or lunch or dinner, and the fox buys every one of them. Not only that, Brownie then takes the fox along on her hunt for signs of spring. (“Besides me” is her frequent refrain.) My girls and I love this one. What I love most about it is the rich, delicious language Brownie uses:
“Not a clink or a crackle,” she said. “This icy ice is frozen solid.”
The girls love that she outfoxes the fox so many times, and the end they head home as friends. Susan Blackaby has created quite the hero in Brownie, and Carmen Segovia‘s illustrations are perfectly wonderful. Using only white, blue, shades of brown, and red, Segovia creates the perfect wintery world for Brownie and the fox. (Truthfully, the illustrations remind me a bit of the ones in Jon Klassen’s much-lauded I Want My Hat Back which I wrote about here, but I like this story so much better.) Don’t wait until next February 2nd to read this one–find a copy today! Highly Recommended. (Sterling 2011) {I just looked this one up, and yes, it was nominated for a Cybils last year. Rats! I was hoping it had been published late enough in the year to be nominated for next year’s Cybils!}
You’ll have to dust off your fake French accent for this next fun picture book. Rabbit Pirates: A Tale of the the Spinach Main by Judy Cox is a rollicking good time. Something about this story just tickles me. It’s the story of Monsieur Lapin and Monsieur Blanc, rabbits and friends who run a little café in Provence called the Spinach Main. Obviously, these bunnies have seen much more exciting times, but now they are content to sip their glasses of mineral water on the terrace and reminisce. That is, they’re content until a “well dressed fox” becomes one of their restaurant’s regular patrons, and it is obvious that the fox has more on his mind than the aubergines on his plate. What will the bunnies do? Never fear–they have a few tricks up their sleeves, and while they don’t have to resort to their old pirate tricks, they are more than a match for Mr. Fox. This story is just plain old fun, and Caldecott-winning illustrator Emily Arnold McCully‘s illustrations are the perfect complement to the story. Another Highly Recommended tale! (Browndeer Press, 1999)
I love that I can still find picture books that my chapter book-devouring older daughter still enjoys. Both of these stories are nuanced and complicated enough to be enjoyed by anyone.
My girls and I finally finished the chapter book read-aloud that we started right after Christmas (I think?), Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray, and what a good time we had with it! Winner of the 1943 Newbery Medal, Adam of the Road is the story of Adam the minstrel’s son and his adventures as he travels about the English countryside. Adam is a likable fellow, very warmhearted and loving, and we couldn’t help but grow to love him and root for him as he searches for his father and his dog, Nick. What I like most about this story is that it very unobtrusively presents many, many facets of Medieval life. From life in a castle among the nobility to the wandering life of a minstrel and almost everything in between, we get a taste of what life was like for the people of the Middle Ages. In this regard it reminds me a bit of Hans Brinker(linked to my review), but the lessons are much more palatable in Adam of the Road. Simple but lovely word pictures abound in this story:
Adam hesitated. Then he told the story. He exaggerated it a little. He played the sour notes on his harp and he made them sound even worse than they really had. The young squire, who had been looking rather unhappy, threw back his head and shouted with laughter. Adam threw back his head too and laughed, strangely eased of his pain. For the first time in his life he had played the part of an oyster. He had taken the bit of grit that was scratching him and made something of it that was comfortable to him and pleasing to someone outside. He had made a valuable discovery, but he did not know it at the moment; he only knew that he felt happy again, and he wagged his head a little. (63)
I also really like that Roger, Adam’s father, is a very skilled and passionate minstrel, and he passes his love for his vocation on to his son. During his travels, Adam falls in with a family of minstrels whose standard for minstrelsy is much lower than Roger’s; they ” ‘give people what they want,’ ” and Adam notices the difference:
At first that sounded like what Roger used to say. “A minstrel must fit his tale to his listeners,” but when Adam thought it over he decided that it was quite different. Roger told tales that fitted the good in people, tales about courage and danger and adventure and love. (238)
I love that “Roger told tales that fitted the good in people.” I think the best stories do that.
My girls were quite taken in by this story and usually begged for just one more chapter each time our read-aloud session came to an end. They also drew several comparisons between it and another Newbery winner, The Door in the Wall by Margaret De Angeli. This is one I read, reviewed, and loved a couple of years ago, and since then I have had Lulu read it and both girls have listened to it numerous times in audio. I also have to mention that the version of Adam of the Road that we read is the one pictured below, not the one linked above. I think the Robert Lawson’s playful illustrations make hunting out this particular edition worthwhile.
Another Medieval read-aloud we have shared in the past few weeks is Castle by David Macaulay. Winner of a 1978 Caldecott honor, Castle is the fictional tale of the building of a castle in Wales. More informational than plot-driven, this black-and-white picture book gives a detailed description of how the castle is built from below ground and up. Obviously, David Macaulay‘s line drawings are amazing. I honestly think this one might best be read individually so that the reader can sit and soak up the description, flip back to the glossary to learn the meaning of a technical term or two, and study the drawings. As it was we read it over several days, stopping when I felt my brain couldn’t take any more description (or the DLM demanded my attention, or both). I do not visualize things easily, so perhaps I am playing to my own weakness here; Louise actually recognized the word portcullis (and not just the word, but what it is) from her careful studying and reading-what-she-could-by-herself of You Wouldn’t Want to Live in a Medieval Castle, so I offer it as a companion to these other stories. I don’t particularly like to read the very visually complicated You Wouldn’t Want to. . . books, but they’re good ones, and the kids generally really like them.
This year I remembered in time to a.) get books before the holiday, not after and b.) get books in time to read them and review them here, so that you have a margin of a couple of days to get them to read with your children, should you so choose. I’m getting better!
Lincoln and His Boys by Rosemary Wells (yes, of Max and Ruby fame) is a short chapter book that my girls and I devoured in one lunchtime sitting. Divided into three vignettes and written from the perspective of first Willie, then Willie and Tad, and finally Tad alone, this beautifully written story paints a picture of Lincoln as the loving and devoted father he was. The story begins with Willie and and his father traveling to Chicago to the courthouse in June of 1859. It is on this trip that Lincoln announces to Willie that yes, he is running for president. In this chapter we see Lincoln’s easy way with people, as well as some of his idiosyncrasies. The second portion, written from both Tad and Willie’s perspectives, deals with the time immediately following Lincoln’s election to president and the Lincolns’ subsequent move to Washington, D.C. Part of this chapter takes place in the train on the way to D.C.; the other takes place in the White House. We get to see what the Lincoln’s family life might’ve been like, including the relationship between Tad and Willie’s older brother, Robert, and the rest of the family. Willie dies at the beginning of the last section, so it’s told from Tad’s perspective. We see the Lincolns’ deep, deep grief, both individual and corporate. Of course, President Lincoln’s grief is two-pronged; grief over his son and grief over the nation. The book ends with the ending of the Civil War, with Tad by his father’s side. I’ve made this book sound very somber and serious, and there are a great many somber episodes in the story; however, mostly this book paints Lincoln as a doting, jovial father. In the author note at the end of the book, Wells states that “Lincoln’s life may be more thoroughly documented than any other person’s in history” and that every single thing that happens in this story is factual, though the dialogue and cicumstances may be invented. I know that the character of Lincoln has been mythologized down through time, but I think this book portrays him as an imperfect man with some idiosyncrasies and flaws, but one with pure motives who loved his family and his country. I have to mention the illustrations by P.J. Lynch; they are lovely color portraits that look very old-fashioned and depict a warmth in the relationships of the Lincolns. We loved this story. Highly Recommended. (Candlewick, 2009)
Of course, we read several other books about Lincoln, some of which were new to us and some of which I’ve reviewed before. Here are a couple of links to past reviews:
Books about George Washington aren’t quite as easy to come by as ones about Lincoln, but I found a good one in Big George by Anne Rockwell. This story focuses on Washington’s personality and character as the subtitle, How a Shy Boy Became President, indicates. Of course, there are plenty of details of how he actually became president, too. We really, really like this one. One of my favorite parts is how Rockwell points out several times that Washington had a bad temper but learned to control it. This isn’t done in a moralizing way, but rather it makes him seem like a real person. The illustrations in this story, done in gouache and pencil by Matt Phelan, are very expressive, with the slightly messy and muted look that I love. This is an excellent picture biography of Washington’s growing up and adult years. We’ve read a few more book about Washington, and I’m happy to add this one to our list. (Harcourt, 2009)
Somehow Louise brought not one but two illustrated versions of O. Henry’s short story “The Gift of the Magi” home from the library a few weeks ago. I’ll admit I put her off for several days about reading one of them; it takes me quite a while after Christmas to even think about reading yet another Christmas story (like usually the next Christmas!) Plus, I knew it to be a somewhat lengthy story, and our read-aloud time is precious so I guard it carefully. I finally gave in to her one day last week, and I was surprised by quite a few things.
First, this is no “dumbed down” version of the story. We encountered words like parsimony and mendicancy and imputation in the first paragraph. I was pleased to be able to hear the narrator’s voice in this story, instead of some milk-toast adaptation of it. Second, it’s not as long as I thought–I bet I read it, start to finish, in ten minutes or less. Third, my girls were spellbound. Mesmerized. Yes, that’s usually their reaction to most stories, honestly. But this one was oh so easy to read with feeling and fervor, despite the twenty-five dollar words hiding here and there in the sentences. I have to admit that I grew a little pedantic after reading this story, pointing out to the girls how important sacrificial giving is, that like David we shouldn’t give to God that which costs us nothing. They got the message, and what a poignant and beautiful vehicle through which to deliver it. Why did I wait so long to read this one?
If all of that isn’t enough, this version itself is gorgeous. Lisbeth Zwerger‘s illustrations, one facing each page of text, are dramatic and evocative of the strong emotion in the story. Della’s beautiful hair swirls and floats about her. Jim is blonde and young-looking in this story, which upset my preconceived ideas about him, but his demeanor is spot-on. Add this one to your TBR list for Christmas 2012, or better yet, read it now and then, too. I give this version of O. Henry’s “The Gift of the Magi” a Highly Recommended.
Have you ever put off reading a certain book to your children? Why?
(Oh, and if you’re looking for inspiration for the holiday that’s actually coming up next week, check out this post.)
I have a soft spot in my heart for anything by Patricia Polacco, although I will concede that perhaps her very detailed stories are more ”just the right book at just the right time for just the right child” kind of reads. Her newest offering, Bun Bun Button, is for a younger audience I think than most of her other books that I’ve read. However, for my six year old and me, this delightful, tender story was a snuggle-on-the-couch together kind of book that just hit the spot. It’s the story of a preschooler named Paige who stays with her gramma most days after preschool. Paige Darling and Gramma do all sorts of fun things together: bake sand cookies, make up the beds, feed the pets, and snuggle together for special story time in the Big Blue Chair. When Paige realizes that all the pets have special toys Gramma made just for them, she requests a handmade toy of her own. Gramma obliges by making Paige a lovey she names Bun Bun Button, a rabbit with a special “ear pocket” just right for Paige to hide her finger in when she holds Bun Bun up to her face. This story goes from super sweet to exciting when when Paige decides to tie Bun Bun Button to a helium balloon. I won’t ruin the ending, but suffice it to say that as Gramma often says, “We’re Darlings, and we Darlings have always been lucky!” I think the reason why I like this one so much is that Lulu has her own beloved Bunny, and although she is too sophisticated to enjoy a story like this right now, I am not. (You can see a picture of Lulu’s Bunny and Louise’s Bear in this RAT post, a review of another sweet story.) Second, we read a similar story a long time ago about a little bear (I think) that floated away on a hot air balloon, and this particular story scarred made quite an impression on Louise. I remember one Sunday when she was all dressed up with a big bow in her hair, and when she got out of the van, she grabbed her bow to hold it down so she wouldn’t float away. (Apparently, the story had something to do with a bow, too, but I’ve forgotten the details.) Anyway, Louise has since recovered, but sharing this story with her brought out my own fond reminiscences about my girls’ earliest years. Patricia Polacco’s artwork is messy and expressive and colorful, just perfect for this warm story. Read this one with your own preschooler, especially if you have family members of the stufffed variety. (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2011)
The first book is super sweet, and this next one is super silly, in the best possible way! Look Out, Jack! The Giant Is Back! by Tom Birdseye is just plain fun. It’s the rest of the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. After Jack escapes the giant, he and his mother flee to America, taking with them the goose that lays the golden eggs and the singing harp. They settle down on a “nice little farm in the mountains of North Carolina” and are happy there until the giant finds them! The giant has now changed his tune from “fee fi fo fum” to
Wham blam hickity hack!
I’m gonna get that boy named Jack!
He now be living, but soon he’ll roast!
I’ll spread him with mustard and eat him on toast!
Isn’t that a hoot? Tom Birdseye’s wordsmithery makes this story a delight to read aloud. Here are a couple of gems to whet your appetite:
Life was good, and peaceful, and oh-so fragrant. . . until one day in August when it was so hot Jack had to pack the hen in ice to keep her from laying hard-boiled eggs instead of golden ones.
Jack–being as smart as a tree full of owls–had a plan.
Of course, Jack outwits the giant with a silly, kid-pleasing solution, and all is well at his little mountain cabin once again. This would make a fun addition to a lesson about figurative language. Will Hillenbrand‘s illustrations are very detailed and colorful–I could study them for a while, just for fun. (I’ve reviewed a couple of other books he illustrated: Counting Crocodilesand The Last Snake in Ireland.) I give this one a Highly Recommended for pure, unadulterated read-aloud fun! (Holiday House, 2001)
I want to give a big, huge WELCOME to all the new Read Aloud Thursday participants! Last week we had a record twenty links on the RAT list! I try as often as I can to get around and visit each one, so please know that if I fail to comment on your post this week, I’ll try to get to your next one. Oh, and occasionally (like last week) I can’t comment on some blogs due to technical difficulties. I know that the RAT community that has grown up over the past three years is the main reason why I love it so much, and that only happens through our commenting on each other’s blogs. Let’s keep the comment love going!
This post is from the archives, but I thought I’d post it again, just in case anyone is making a quick trip to the library before Februrary 2. Enjoy!
I serendepitously happened upon a few fun books about Groundhog Day last week at the library, and I thought I’d share them here at Hope Is the Word. February 2nd usually comes comes and goes without much thought from me about these furry little mammals, but it is a fun tradition, and I was happy to share these books with my girls. The Secret of the First One Up by Iris Hiskey Arno is my favorite. In this sweet book, a little girl groundhog named Lila learns about Groundhog Day after her Uncle Wilbur challenges her to be the first one to go Above Ground after a winter’s nap. Renee Graef of My First Little House Books fame is the illustrator of this sweet and gentle story.
Gregory’s Shadow, written and illustrated by Don Freeman (whom you will recognize as the author and illustrator of Corduroy), is the fun story of Gregory the Groundhog who loses his shadow when he goes outside the day before Groundhog Day. What follows is a fun and suspenseful adventure at the end of which Gregory and his shadow are reunited just in time for Groundhog Day. Please note that this story contains a reference to a ghost.
These books provide great introductions to the tradition of Groundhog Day. What a great way to spend time together while waiting to learn whether or not we’ll have six more weeks of winter–reading!!
This RAT post isn’t so much about books about music in a completely straightforward way, but there’s definitely a subtle theme going on. Enjoy!
I picked The Really Awful Musicians by John Manders up out the new books bin at our of our libraries thinking it looked like fun, and I was right. What I didn’t anticipate is how nicely this one would dovetail with our history studies! Yes, that’s right, this comical-looking picture book is actually based on something that really happened. Well, sort of. The story itself is somewhat fantastical, with a talking horse and some hyperbole, but the backstory is there. The picture book bit is the story of Piffaro, a young pipe and drum player, who flees his home when the king outlaws all music because it’s so bad (as in poorly played, not morally deficient). The musicians play well individually, but together, they aren’t . . . together. In a fit of exasperation, the king decrees that all musicians who stick around and are caught will be fed to the crocodiles living in the castle moat! As Piffaro runs for his life, he collects several other musicians: a contrabass player, a harpist, a mandolin player, and a sackbut player. The format of the book makes it a fun one to read and share, and Manders‘ illustrations are cartoonish (you can see examples here) and match the story well. Hands down my children’s favorite part (including the DLM!) is the extremely entertaining repeated inclusion of the sounds the various instruments make. My kids’ favorites are pootpoot, pootpootpoot (the sound of the flute) and deedlediddledoodlediddledeedledeedlediddledoodle (the sound of the mandolin). The fact that the onomatopoeic text curls, marches, and floats across the page is icing on the cake. Of course, the musicians finally get it together, thanks to Piffaro’s horse, Charlemagne. (Ah, there’s the history hint!) I won’t give anything away, but if you have history or music lovers, I think this one will be a hit. My only complaint is that Charlemagne’s solution might’ve been explained/illustrated a little more thoroughly, but after all, this is a picture book, not a history treatise, and there is a one-page Author’s Note that fills in some of the spaces. This one’s fun. (Clarion, 2011)
First and foremost, Ella’s Big Chance is a Cinderella story, as its subtitle indicates. The fact that this is A Jazz-Age Cinderella means that the illustrations (read: the costumes) are beautiful, which is a given since Shirley Hughes is both the author and illustrator. This story has Ella Cinders working with her father in “a little dress shop in a quiet but elegant part of town.” Ella is happy in her life, learning to sew under her father’s expert tutelage and enjoying her friendship with Buttons, their doorman/deliverman. Of course, pretty soon Mr. Cinders acquires a new wife, thereby giving Ella a stepmother and two tall, thin, pinch-nosed stepsisters. The story goes along predictably, with the stepsisters and stepmother treating Ella poorly and eventually being invited to a grand ball given by a duchess in honor of her son, the Duke of Arc. Enter a fairy godmother with a magical umbrella, and Ella’s off to the ball, too. However, the story takes an expected-but-delightful turn when Ella eventually turns down the duke’s proposal to be with the man she loves. My girls, whom I’m learning aren’t too young to understand the dreaminess of romance (with little-to-no premature exposure!), practically swooned at this. It’s a nice twist on the let’s-go-be-a-princess theme that actually fits with the historical thrust of the story, too. The illustrations are gorgeous, with saturated jewel tones and lots of emotion and atmosphere. One thing I particularly appreciate is that Ella is depicted as being shorter and plumper than her stepsisters–she’s no Disney Cinderella with miniscule waist. Highly Recommended! (Simon & Schuster, 2003)
Snow isn’t something we get much of around here (except last year!), so maybe that explains my affinity for snow-themed picture books. Snow Music by Lynne Rae Perkins took me by surprise. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but this book is delightful! It’s not so much a story (which means we usually won’t like the book very much, actually) as it is an observation of the sounds one might hear when the world is covered in white. The first page is covered in collaged-together blue, purple, and green pebble shapes with the word peth on each one in white. In the middle of the page are the words “Everyone whisper:”. Let me tell you, that is a fun way to set the stage for this auditory experience! What follows is a quiet romp through a snowy world in which one little boy’s indoor dog has escaped. As we search for the dog, we see a deer, a squirrel, children, a bird, etc., and we observe what they experience in the snow. The squirrel, for example, is thinking this:
I think–
I think
I left it–
I think
I left it
here–
somewhere. . .
I think.
I think I–
I know
I left
it here. . .
No, wait–
The text is not arranged linearly like it is above, but rather it is on a field of white snow in an erratic, skittering formation, much like a squirrel might make across the snow. The girls knew immediately what the squirrel was looking for. Do you? Really, I could go on about the quiet auditory and visual experience that is Snow Music, but I’ll just stop with a Highly Recommended. (Greenwillow Books, 2003)
I’ve actually reviewed quite a few snow-themed picture books here at Hope Is the Word. Here’s a list with links:
I don’t know how much snow we’re predicted to get this winter; reading great books like these may be the only way we get to experience the white stuff this year.
Of all the Cybils categories I’ve actively tried to read books from, the picture fiction shortlist is the one I’ve had the hardest time tracking down books in. (Grammar geeks, please ignore my loose-and-free use of prepositions in that sentence!) I’ve actually managed to read four of the seven shortlisted titles, one of which I purchased myself. Somehow that’s rather disappointing to me. I think it’s because most libraries have so many picture books in comparison to books in other genres that I expected to read them all. At any rate, here’s my last installment of Cybils picture fiction reviews, barring a sudden glut of new picture books at one of my local libraries.
Press Here by Hervé Tullet is a conceptual picture book that made quite a splash in the book bloggy world. It’s an interactive picture book, though not in the way one might expect: instead of pull tabs and pop-ups (that spell premature death for a library book), this book simply begs to be touched–pressed, rubbed, shaken, tilted. This might be called a story-less picture book; instead, when the reader or listener follows the directions printed on one page, the result is seen on the next. For example, the first page reads, “PRESS HERE AND TURN THE PAGE.” Above the text is a lone, yellow swirl of color. Turning the page (not, of course, before PRESSING HERE) reveals that the single dot has turned into two. And so on. Yes, it’s fun and unexpected. My girls like it, but I’m going to admit a prejudice here: this one reminds me a little too much of all the technological gizmos we have constantly begging for our attention, when what Ireally want is a story with beautiful illustrations. It reminds me of this little video clip I saw back a few months ago:
What’s really funny (alarming? revealing?) is to read the comments at how put-off people are by the fact that the baby automatically thinks that the magazine is interactive. I don’t know how big of a deal this is, but I do know that I prefer a story over a concept any old day. I think Press Here is a fun book to enjoy once or twice, but there’s not much about it to take out of the treasury of one’s memory and mull over and enjoy later. Other people like it better than I, so if you’re interested in another, less-curmudgeonly perspective, here you go:
I was really excited to get my hands on Do You Know Which Ones Will Grow? by Susan A. Shea to use with our science studies. Back several months ago now I was looking for nonfiction picture books to use for a science lesson about determining whether things are living or nonliving. When I saw this title on the Cybils site, I thought it would be a perfect fit for our lesson. Alas, no library in our area had it then and neither did Amazon. When it was finally in stock at Amazon, I ordered it, thinking we could use it as a sort of review of that lesson. This book actually didn’t live up to the expectations that I had of it, but as it turns out, they were probably false expectations to begin with. This isn’t so much a science-y picture book (although it is that just a little) as it is a fun-with-words picture book. Here are the words from one of the opening spreads:
If a duckling grows and becomes a duck, can a car grow and become. . . a truck?
Of course, timing is everything with this sort of verbal back-and-forth, and that’s where the illustrations and the format come into play. Tom Slaughter’s illustrations are bold, saturated, and graphic, with a very simple, primary-school feel to them. The second page of each two-page spread includes a fold-out page and/or a die-cut of some sort so that the reader or listener has to wait for the answer, making the timing work. This is a fun book, just not exactly that I was expecting. It reminds me a little bit of Q Is for Duck, a book I reviewed a couple of years ago. (Blue Apple Books, 2011)
I have also read I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen, though I didn’t manage to write up a review when I actually had it in my possession. Like the other two books above, I like it, but not quite as much as almost everyone else seems to. It just doesn’t have what I like most in a picture book–beautiful, lavish illustrations and a compelling story line. It is humorous, even slightly sarcastic, and for that reason I think many children (maybe especially those who don’t like the type of book I like) will enjoy it. Like Alice, I feel like this one will probably be the winner.
Okay, I have a confession to make: I almost deleted this entire post and started from scratch with it, only I didn’t have time. Instead, I’m offering this:
Disclaimer: The fact that I didn’t love any of these books is not indicative in any way of their kid-appeal or lack thereof.
Just yesterday, Louise read Press Here several times alone, and then she roped the DLM into a reading of it. Then I had to read it aloud to both of them. Even the DLM, at almost 20 months, really seems to get it. Obviously, this story involves more active imagining than I first thought. (Having the heft of both of them in my lap, enjoying this picture book together, really made me think about the possibilities between its two thick covers. I still prefer a story myself, but I do recognize that this book is special.)
Guess what else I had to re-read to Louise yesterday, at her insistence? Yeah, you guessed it–Do You Know Which Ones Will Grow?
I stand corrected.
I’m going to let this post serve as my Armchair Cybils wrap-up for the picture fiction category. The other shortlisted title that I’ve reviewed already is Me. . . Jane by Patrick McDonnell, and it’s my top pick out of all the ones I’ve read. I share many of the sentiments that Alice expressed in her latest Armchair Cybils post, most notably that I have a hard time thinking really settling on one book over another when the books in question are so very different from each other. (Although I guess I just did that, but you know what I mean.) That, and the fact that some of the books seem more like picture nonfiction than picture fiction. At any rate, it has been fun. There are so many, many, many great books published each year–it’s just fun to marinate in them.
What’s the best new picture book you’ve read lately?
I’m going to do something today that I almost never do: I’m going to review a book that I don’t have in front of me right now, and in fact, haven’t even had in my possession for about a month. This review won’t be as thorough, then, as mine usually are (or at least as as thorough as I think mine are, which might be something altogether different), but I really want to share this book with you because we enjoyed it so much, so here goes.
The Book of Indians by Holling C. Holling probably isn’t politically correct, so I’m risking something by even posting about it. I realize that books like this one, published in 1935, are often viewed as full of stereotypes and offensive to modern audiences. I am by no means an expert on this subject, but I found nothing that seemed offensive and no broad generalizations about Native Americans whatsoever in this part nonfiction, part fiction book. The book cover over on the left (linked to Amazon) is sort of hard to see, so I’ll include another book cover that I also found on Amazon here:
This picture is sort of a case in point, I guess. Yes, this Native American is dressed in what I guess might be considered stereotypical N.A. garb–war bonnet, buckskin, etc. However, the fact that the stereotype (if that is, indeed, what this is) exists must mean that some Native Americans at some point dressed this way, right? In other words, people are people and we must have a way to describe them if that’s what we’re going to do. It’s okay, as long as we realize that not every Native American is just like the one pictured above.
I think my point here is that I’m not too worried about nit-picking old books to find a bias. We liked the book a lot, and we found nothing whatsoever that seemed amiss or rang untrue to our ears and sensibilities. It is an informational book, with four chapters devoted to various regional Native groups: Indians of the forests, Indians of the plains, Indians of the mountains, and Indians of the coast (These aren’t the official titles, just what I remember; Directionally, the groups start on the east coast and travel west.) After the informational chapter, which is written in a very pleasing and enjoyable style, there is a chapter or two in which a child or children (sometimes it’s a boy, sometimes a girl, and sometimes one of each, as I remember) from that particular tribe or group is highlighted in a sort of “day in the life of ______ “ story. The stories are always exciting; one little girl, quite by accident, spies out some scouts from an enemy tribe and returns to her village to sound the alarm. Another little boy helps his uncle trap a whole herd of buffalo through an elaborately devised scheme in which they drive the herd between rocks and over the edge of a cliff. My girls always, always wanted to read more, and I love that they learned some pretty detailed information in a pleasant (entertaining, even) way. Each story really showcases how one group is different from another that lives in another region. The informational chapters provide the framework; the stories that follow put flesh and blood to it.
I can’t not mention the detailed drawings and diagrams that are included throughout the book. Holling C. Holling’s respect and admiration for Native people groups comes through both in the tone of the stories and the attention he gave to his illustrations. From weapons to clothing to dwellings and structures, every illustration is worthy of close and careful study. The Book of Indians was our first Holling C. Holling book, but it won’t be our last. I’m particularly interested in reading Paddle to Sea,which won a 1942 Caldecott honor.
This book, coupled with The Birchbark House (linked to my review), rounded out our Native American studies nicely. I used Farrar’s booklist and fit in as many picture books as I could, with Paul Goble’s being my hands-down favorites. I purchased one of the If You Lived with. . . books for each of the regions we read about in The Book of Indians,
and I had Lulu read them independently and make a mini book highlighting whatever she found most interesting about each group. We even did a few activities from the book More Than Moccasins, although I will confess that I am much better at buying or checking out hands-on activity books than I am actually doing the activities. All in all it was a very interesting study, and we all learned a lot and had fun. Education at its best!
This rounds out our 2011 read-aloud booklist. If you missed it a few Thursdays ago, you can see by mousing over “Booklists” at the top of my blog, and then clicking on “2011 Booklists.” The chapter book read-alouds are at the bottom of the page.