I love Lauren Castillo's illustrations and follow her blog, so when I found out latest book Melvin and the Boy
was available and not yet in the Brooklyn Library's Catalog, I boldly emailed the library to find out if they were planning on acquiring it. I was impressed that I received a response that very day to say "Yes!" and I was even able to put it on hold before it was even on the shelves.
Well, my very professional review is:
I love it! I love it! I love it!
"The Boy" in the title, narrates his own story, charmingly telling us about his desire for a pet. Unfortunately, his parents give him every excuse in the book (no pun intended): dogs are too big, monkeys are too much work, and birds are too noisy. The Boy, however, sees a lovely, fancy turtle in the park and decides he might be just the thing. He names the turtle Melvin, but by the end of the day, has decided that Melvin might not be happy as a pet. He returns Melvin to the pond, and his friends, knowing that he can still come back and visit whenever he likes.
The Boy of the story is delightfully sweet and appealing, his words expressed simply and honestly. Castillo's text and illustrative style are equally praiseworthy. The urban setting is smoothly integrated into the story. The end pages, which place the turtle in a green foreground against the gray cityscape begin a pattern for the rest of the book. When the Boy walks on the street or is in the park, building and cityscape backdrops rest in sepia or grays while people and pets pop out in a muted color palette.
An author's note about turtles will satisfy curious kids and adults.
Want More?
Castillo has consolidated the professional reviews in this post.
At Macmillan's website you can print out activity pages for the book (scroll down to the bottom for the link).
Read an interview with the author at Seven Impossible Things.
Read another one of my favorite Castillo-illustrated books, What Happens on Wednesday
(written by Emily Jenkins).
Big Kid says: Our teacher has a turtle for a pet.
Little Kid says: That turtle's taking a bath.
I have been wanting to read British author Anthony Browne's Me and You
ever since I heard about it on the blogosphere when it was first published last year. However, inexplicably, it took our library a really long time to acquire it.
It was worth the wait.
Browne retells Goldilocks and the Three Bears fairy tale from both the point of view of Goldilocks and the Bears. On the left of each two page spread we see the sepia-toned urban world of Goldilocks, while on the right is the the sunny world of the Bears. The narration is confined to the Bears, who have a single illustration in each spread, while Goldilocks' adventure is told with multiple small images. It might seem that this duality is meant to highlight a urban/rural dichotomy, with a predictable, colorless urban blight contrasted with the bright, cheerful natural world.
But that is only a superficial reading. There are many interesting and subtle details to be found, which add layer upon layer to the story. Look closely and you might notice the bears' home is more suburban than rural, and it's a bit too neat and tidy, with trees manicured to within a inch of their lives. the youngest bear peers out of the window at the beginning and end of the story. It's interesting to imagine what he is looking at, or for. Neither is the treeless city all that it first appears. The animated, glowing gold locks of the heroine hint at life below a gritty urban surface. It's a life which we see fully manifested by the end of the story.
Browne's book is a layered, moving tale about family life and will only improve upon each retelling. One of my favorites.
Want More?
See the illustrator's studio in this article in The Guardian.
Read a lovely review at My Favourite Books.
Read an interview with the author.
Read about the author at the publisher's website.
Little Kid says: Bear story, again! Again!
Big Kid says: Look at her hair!
Yes, yes, short post, I know, but have you seen the heat index?
Tameka Fryer Brown's Around Our Way On Neighbor's Day
is a summer tour around the block. Both Brown's poetry and Charlotte Riley-Webb's illustrations are high energy, taking us on a fast-paced tour of a neighborhood block in summer. Arguments in barbershops, lemonade stands, corner bodegas, outdoor art and chess, spontaneous potlucks and double dutch. These are some of the day's festive activities. Even in the evening, filled with laughter and music, the pace doesn't slow down much.
As both the author and illustrator live in the south, this is an urban neighborhood picture book, which is not inspired by New York City! How refreshing.
Want More?
Read an interview with the author at SLJ.
Read a conversation with the author at Cynsations.
Read a review and link round-up at Multiculturalism Rocks!
Watch the book trailer at YouTube.
Visit the author's website.
Visit the illustrator's website.
Big Kid says: What is "hooping?"
Sky Scrape/City Scape: Poems of City Life
is a collection of poems curated by Jane Yolen. Yolen includes several of her own poems but Langston Huges, Lucille Clifton, Leland B. Jacobs, Eve Merriam and many others. As you would except, the poems range in length and style and since they are (for the most part) arranged a few per page, parents can choose to read all of the poems or choose one at a time.
Poem subjects range all over the city from graffiti to subways to street cleaners and even the city dump. Yolen has chosen poems that are lively and positive. The poems make you excited about the city. Many children's books end with some sort of ode to bedtime and Yolen chooses Norma Farmer's "Manhattan Lullaby," in which "city children sleep,/ lulled by rumble, babble, beep." It is a good choice.
Although the illustrations and some of the poems are obviously inspired by New York, it is not a collection which exists solely for residents of that city. Ken Conlon's chalk and oil pastel illustrations add color and vibrancy and successfully complement the lively poems.
If you like poetry, is a good selection for read aloud time.
Want More?
Visit Jane Yolen's website.
Read other city poems in A City Is and City I Love.
Big Kid says: Read the subway one again.
Little Kid says: Bus! Bus!
This is another book that is getting moved to the front of my review queue, partly because it is so fabulous, and partly because someone else has put it on hold from the library so I have to return it. John Rocco's Blackout
is brand-new to the shelves and you may have seen it making it's rounds in internetland. In fact, it has been written about so much that there is hardly any point in my writing about it... and yet here I am.
The recent hot weather and my inability to run the a/c due to my 2 year old's opinion that planning with it buttons is a hilarious activity has reminded me of my first city blackout experience. It is also the one on which this book is based. In 2003, the huge Northeast power failure that shut down places from Ohio to New York. I remember walking home and feeling so incredibly fortunate that I was not on the subway at the time! I have an irrational fear of being trapped underground, and being stuck on the subway at such a moment would not have been good for my sanity.
While the overall "message" of the book is that families have more fun together rather than sitting separately in front of various electronic machines, the city scenes are a joy to look at. At the start of the book, the city is "loud and hot." But during the blackout, it's clear that while the city is still loud and hot, the noises are voices rather than machines, and the heat is mitigated with ice cream and fire hydrants rather than air conditioners. One of the city details that appealed to me most was when the family went up to the rooftops to see the stars and the neighbors had a "block party in the sky." I wonder if non-city dwellers realize how much of a role the rooftops of buildings play in urban culture. I certainly didn't know before I moved to NYC.
In any case, there's no need to wait for a blackout to enjoy this book.
Want More?
Read a more thorough review at NY Times.
Read an interview and see more lovely artwork at Seven Impossible Things or E. Dulemba's blog.
Watch the (very cute) trailer on you tube.
Enjoy another rooftops-at-night book, At Night.
Big Kid says: Let's turn off the lights.
Little Kid says: Night sky! Where's the moon?
We've had Stop That Pickle!
for a few years, but I never noticed until last night that it is a city book! Chalk one up for observant parenting. It is currently on my 2 year old's favorites list, so I've read it about 50 times in the last 3 days.
Peter Armour's Stop That Pickle! is a take on the classic Gingerbread Man story but with a surprising twist at the end, which I won't give away. The last pickle in a jar at the local deli jumps out and runs away, chased by various other food stuffs. It's one of the weirder books I've read, for sure, but lots of fun. Did you know, for example, that the PB&J is one of the slowest sandwiches out there?
The briny green runaway eludes his followers by weaving in and around street corners lined with multi-storied buildings. Illustrator Andrew Shachat's quirky renditions of people at the windows are quite strange. I didn't find them as appalling as the School Library Journal critic did, but they may not be to everyone's taste. Personally, I like a little weirdness in my picture books, especially those about edible runaways.
Want More?
Read another urban The Gingerbread Man picture book.
Read another deli-food themed picture book, Five Little Gefilte Fish.
Stop That Pickle was featured on an episode of Between the Lions.
Little Kid says: Stop that Pickle!
I really need to review the stacks of books I already have before I start checking out even more books from the library. I am becoming overwhelmed. However, before I get to the back stock, I must tell you about this new book I just found: I am Dodo: Not a True Story
.
The dodo bird holds a particular place in our collective imagination. I'm not a anthropologist/sociologist/ornithologist, so I won't try to answer why that is. Maybe it is just the silly name. Maybe it's because we don't want the dodo to be extinct. In Kae Nichimura's I am Dodo: Not a True Story, we can indulge in the fantasy that at least one dodo is still walking around.... in New York City. In the city, in the face of naysayers, a lone professor holds on the belief that a dodo still exists. Little does he know that the bird is on his way. In the heart of the busy city, Dodo and his biggest fan strike up a charming friendship based on freedom, dancing and games of hide-n-seek.
One again, the city plays backdrop to a more intimate relationship; that of the Professor and his Dodo (there's a phrase you are sure not to see again). The busy urban population is not interested in the Dodo, they mind their own business or deny the existence of something right under their noses. The park plays a prominent role in the development of the Dodo and Professor's friendship -- a place more isolated than the crowded city streets, although Central Park is, in reality, far more crowded, than Nichimura's wonderful illustrations would have us believe.
Giving much weight to the oft-used phrase, "only in New York," I am Dodo: Not a True Story
2 Comments on Dancing City: I Am Dodo, last added: 6/15/2011
I really need to review the stacks of books I already have before I start checking out even more books from the library. I am becoming overwhelmed. However, before I get to the back stock, I must tell you about this new book I just found: I am Dodo: Not a True Story.
The dodo bird holds a particular place in our collective imagination. I'm not a anthropologist/sociologist/ornithologist, so I won't try to answer why that is. Maybe it is just the silly name. Maybe it's because we don't want the dodo to be extinct. In Kae Nichimura's I am Dodo: Not a True Story, we can indulge in the fantasy that at least one dodo is still walking around.... in New York City. In the city, in the face of naysayers, a lone professor holds on the belief that a dodo still exists. Little does he know that the bird is on his way. In the heart of the busy city, Dodo and his biggest fan strike up a charming friendship based on freedom, dancing and games of hide-n-seek.
One again, the city plays backdrop to a more intimate relationship; that of the Professor and his Dodo (there's a phrase you are sure not to see again). The busy urban population is not interested in the Dodo, they mind their own business or deny the existence of something right under their noses. The park plays a prominent role in the development of the Dodo and Professor's friendship -- a place more isolated than the crowded city streets, although Central Park is, in reality, far more crowded, than Nichimura's wonderful illustrations would have us believe.
Giving much weight to the oft-used phrase, "only in New York," I am Dodo: Not a True Story
0 Comments on Dancing City: I Am Dodo as of 1/1/1900
It's hard not to be in love with a pair of hawks that are willing to become our neighbors in the city... and in her version of the Pale Male saga, City Hawk, The Story of Pale Male
, Meghan McCarthy chooses to ignore the fact that some neighbors might not like a) birds pooping on their windows, or b) hundreds of binoculars focused daily in the direction of their living rooms.
McCarthy does explain the controversy, and many details about the hawks in an extensive Author's Note (there is also a separate author's note about Central Park), but her story is really about the excitement and joy of watching nature in the city. Whereas the other books start from the hawk's POV, McCarthy begins with the people, taking us from the noisy, crowded polluted streets, to the lush escape of Central Park. We then watch -- just like birdwatchers -- as the hawks explore the park, make their nest and start a family.
I admit that I am a little in love with the gigantic bug eyes McCarthy gives her characters (human and avian), her illustrations are cheerful and everyone looks to be enjoying themselves. She illustrates various city vistas, and although there are numerous views of the sky, she brings us back down to earth, where we humans live, quite often.
It certainly qualifies as an uplifting tale (no pun intended!).
Want More?
Visit the author's website.
Read all my reviews of Pale Male books.
Visit Central Park.
Gothamist posted a video of Pale Male's new mate.
Big Kid says: You know, lots of other birds also live on rooftops, like sparrows and finches.
Little Kids says: Park book, please.
This week I am tackling picture books featuring Pale Male, NYC's resident red-tailed hawk. I have mentioned before on this blog that "birds in the city" is a popular theme for picture books.
But before I get to Pale Male, it seems appropriate to take a look at Barbara Bash's Urban Roosts
, a non-fiction introduction to how and where birds choose to make their nests in urban environments. Fittingly, Bash starts us off with the pigeon. She then goes on to examine a dozen other birds and the clever places they find to build their nests: boots, railroad tracks, lampposts, etc. The illustration of the house swallows reminded me of how my mother used to turn the water hose on the nests the resourceful birds made in the eaves of my childhood home. The birds were not daunted for long, but my mother still kept trying until one year the birds failed to return. I feel a little sad about that now.
Bash's information about each bird's nesting behaviors and descriptions of the birds coupled with her lovely illustrations will certainly make you want to take your children out on an urban bird nest hunting expedition. I also really appreciate they way Bash describes the similarity between their urban homes and their natural nesting places. For example, snowy owls choose northern airport landing fields because they are similar to the windswept plains of the tundra.
Perhaps I will even start to appreciate the pigeons in the nearby store awning a bit more... that is, as long as I continue to evade their poop.
Want More?
Visit Cornell's fantastic website Celebrate Urban Birds, with some terrific downloads and kits to use when you and your child go urban birdwatching.
Visit the Author's Website.
If you live in NYC, learn about the birds we have.
Find more picture books about birds in the city on this blog.
Big Kid says: That bird is living in a streetlight! I see pigeons all the time, but I'd like to see that owl.
I'm including this post as part of the Non-Fiction Monday Round-Up.
The weather here in NYC this week does little to remind one of the impending hot and humid season that is just around the corner. But the annual Mermaid Parade at Coney Island is only one month away and it's time to start thinking about your costume. Get into the spirit with Melanie Hope Greenberg's Mermaids on Parade
.
A young girl experiences the excitement of preparing and participating in her first parade by coming out of her shell... literally. Greenberg's book captures the joy and (barely controlled) chaos of this event in her colorful and detailed pictures which are, unlike the actual parade, nudity-free. My older son is especially in love with the map of the parade route, and mermaid lovers will appreciate the mermaid tail how-to at the end.
We usually think about city landscapes in terms of skyscrapers and noisy streets so a book set at a city beach -- albeit a crowded one -- is a nice change of pace. Throughout the book Greenberg continually reminds us that this is a city beach by including the skylines, nearby apartment buildings and the F train as part of her illustrations. But let's not forget the people! Just like the actual Mermaid Parade, Greenberg's vibrant and colorful illustrations are overrun with people! She also used locals as the inspiration for many of the drawn character extras in her book, including one of our friends!
For those who love cities, parades, costumes, beaches, mermaids and especially 2 year olds who love the F train.
Want More?
Visit the Coney Island website.
Learn more about the author by visiting her blog where your can learn all sort of interesting things, like how she creates illustrations, who were the models for the people in the book, and you can download free coloring pages.
If you want to buy her books -- buy directly from the author! It's a great way to support picture book writers.
Read a short interview with the author at Posterband (note, she says "Please do not stereotype me as urban!" -
I'm actually surprised at how few books set in San Francisco I have found. That may be because the Brooklyn library doesn't stock them, but I haven't found many through other sources either. There are some about cable cars, of course, but Osmond Molarsky and Helen Hipshman's A Sky Full of Kites
features nary a cable car.
Colin loves to draw. He makes a fantastically large picture and wants to display it somewhere where everyone in the city can enjoy it. Unfortunately, it seems everyone from the firefighters to the bankers to the museum curator has an excuse. But Colin is very resourceful and settles on the one place where everyone can see his painting, day or night: the sky. Colin turns his painting into a kite. Now his art attracts the attention of the city and soon all the naysayers are clambering for a chance to display Colin's art.
Although adults will spot the message about the public's obsession with fame right away, kids might be more interested in Colin's art-turned-into-kite idea. I won't lie to you, this isn't the most well-crafted book I've read, but Hipshman's illustrations are cheerful and she has a few nice city scenes, like the predictable San Francisco row houses and the cityscape at night.
If it's available at the library you might want to take a look even if just to inspire your kids to take their own art project to the skies.
Want More?
Try reading Grace Lin's Kite Flying
.
Learn more about the author by reading this article (mentions his friendship with Isabel Allende), his obituary, or watch an interview with Molarsky at age 98.
Find out what other San Francisco books I've reviewed here (okay, just two so far, but that will change!).
Big Kid says: We should put "flying a kite" on our summer to-do list.
I might have mentioned before that there is an entire subcategory of picture books about being lost in the city. I should add "lost in the city" to the card catalog in my sidebar. Dealing with the idea of being lost and alone is not a new theme in children's literature by any means, but I can't think of any other books in which a bear is lost in New York City. If you can, please send them my way.
Amy Hest's (whose books have appeared several times on this blog already) When You Meet A Bear on Broadway
hits upon another classic theme, missing one's mama. Starting out in a manner of fact manner, Hest gives instructions as to what to do if you ever come across a bear. First and foremost -- be polite (something I will certainly do if I ever meet a wild animal). After ascertaining what Little Bear's Mama is like it is important to look all over the city, especially in the park, where you can climb a high tree. Helping to reunite a wee bear with his mama will certainly remind you of the value of your own mother, so it's good to run on home afterward.
Elivia Savadier's watercolor and ink illustrations are a magical accompaniment to Hest's quirky story. She uses saturated colors to make the girl and bear stand out against the washed out cityscape. I also like the way Savadier cleverly highlights the role of nature in the city by including prominently colored autumnal trees wherever the duo go.
Yesterday it was tigers, today it is bears, now I just need a book about lions in the city. Got any good ones?
Want More?
On her website, Elivia Savadier discusses creating the book's illustrations.
Visit Amy Hest's website.
Big Kid says: What part of Broadway are they on?
Little Kid says: Bear book again!
Those of you living in the city may be familiar with the odd news story of individuals found living with wild animals such as tigers or alligators. It might be fun to speculate whether the tiger found in 2003 in Harlem was adopted after its owner read Diane Goode's Tiger Trouble
.
Of course I am being facetious, but Tiger Trouble certainly makes the idea of owning a tiger in an apartment building seem appealing. In an apartment building at #33 River Street, Jack lives with his Tiger, Lily. (Love the name.) They are best friends and do everything together. Unfortunately the new landlord, Mr. Mud, and his bulldog, Fifi, are not fans of cats. However, when Lily saves the day (and Fifi), Mr. Mud turns over a new leaf and Lily gets to stay.
This is a simply charming story. Goode's narration is light, sweet and stands up to repeated readings (I ought to know, this book is requested again and again by my 2 year old!). The setting is turn of the century New York (although, for the most part, it could be any city) where kids roam free, play stickball, chase fire engines and play tug-of-war in the streets. In fact, the city seems to be a place populated almost entirely by independent children. There is nary a parent in sight. Adults are present but only those that serve the plot. The apartment building is the center of the action: kids hang out of every window and they gather on its stairs. Those of us with real estate envy will gaze longingly at the period details which have now come to be so desirable in the NYC housing market.
Goode's illustrations are colorful, playful and she is a master at amusing facial expressions. Close observers will notice funny little details, like Mr. Mud's full name and an homage to a silent picture star.
Love the story, love the pictures, love the tiger.
Want More?
Read about a real life apartment dwelling tiger.
Visit the author's website.
Big Kid says: That is a strange looking fire engine.
Little Kid says: Roar!
I remember reading Leslie Kimmelman's Everybody Bonjours!
to my older son when he was 4 and both of us setting it aside and never looking at it again. However, now I've read it to my 2 year old and he cannot get enough of it. He loves me to read it again and again.
Of course, my 2 year old has no concept of Paris as a place but I understand why this book it is so appealing to him. Kimmelman's tightly controlled rhyming text takes us on a whirlwind tour of events perfectly expressed for the 2 year old's mind. We bonjour (I'm assuming that if we can "verb" the word "access", we can certainly accept a "verbing" of the word "bonjour", right?) high, low, soft, loud, in crowds, while eating, sleeping... all the important toddler activities. Comfortably, all of this exciting "bonjouring" takes us right back home, where we can "hello."
Sarah McMenemy's colorful illustrations highlight the narrator in a variety of Paris locations, both famous and ordinary. Since two year olds are not interested in landmarks for their own sakes, our girl guide in a red dress is likewise interested in men with brooms rather than the Sacre-Coeur, the gargoyles rather than the Notre Dame and the musicians, rather than the Centre Pompidou. On each page the little reader can find Monsieur LeMousie in odd places (and very oddly, completely out of proportion to the rest of the illustration). A fun map in the end pages will help little ones retrace the journey in the book descriptions of the locations are included. I didn't bother reading them to my 2 year old, but they are nice for older children.
Fun, quick, light and cheerful. C'est bon.
Want More?
Read a review at The Well-Read Child, or Pied Piper Picks, or Seven Impossible Things.
Visit the author's website.
Visit the illustrator's website.
Little Kid says: Bojoo book, please.
I've reviewed several books about Parisian artists, but here's one about how seeing art in Paris can be inspiring.
In Scott Magoon's Hugo & Miles in I've Painted Everything!
, Hugo the elephant has painted everything in his home town. Everything. What's left to paint? Fortunately, friend Miles has the perfect suggestion: why not take a trip to Paris for inspiration? (I can't think of a better idea myself, frankly.) After seeing the city, lots of art and dabbling in cheesy puns (Hugo-mongous, Hu-glow, Van Hugo... you get the idea), Hugo is inspired. He rushes home to Cornville (after reading the puns, this name is painfully appropriate.), where he can "paint everything all over again, only differently." Now that he can paint everything from various angles, in various color media, in various sizes... he'll never run out of ideas.
If you are looking for a children's book about artistic expression Hugo & Miles in I've Painted Everything! is pretty good fun. It presents the ideas in an entertaining and accessible format without becoming remotely esoteric. Hugo and Miles journey around the city looking for inspiration will be familiar to many of us looking for artistic genius to strike. If only we could all go to Paris to do so.
Thanks to Brimful Curiosities for suggesting this book.
Want More?
Read a thorough review that lets you in on many of the book's jokes at Jen Robinson's Book Page.
Visit the author's website.
Big Kid says: Let's do some drawing, now.
Originially published in French under the title, Au Jardin du Luxembourg, André Dahan's Squiggle's Tale
uses the time tested literary device of irony to introduce us to the joys of playing in the park.
It's too bad this book is out of print and, I'm guessing, is going to be hard to find because it's format is very appealing to children. Squiggle writes home to his parents about his good behavior during an outing with his cousins at the Luxembourg Garden but the illustrations reveal a completely different story. Squiggle may confess to having "dipped our toes in [the fountain] just a tiny bit" but fails to mention the dive they took into the water. He writes that he and his cousins "help rake leaves" in the park but the illustration is of the pigs jumping in and scattering a pile of leaves. Of course, all ends happily, as it usually does in Paris (perhaps with the exception of a few picked flowers).
Dahan's appealing and colorful illustrations are reminiscent of Impressionism and we get a thorough tour of the famous park. I love books that are set in urban recreational spaces as they show that kids (and adults) can experience free range play and a variety of activities "off the streets." Who wouldn't love to see a Punch and Judy show, ride a carousel, roll down a lush green hill, play card games and jump in a pile of leaves, all without leaving the exciting city of Paris?
Want More?
Visit the author's website.
I had trouble finding much on Squiggle's Tale, but his book My Friend the Moon
, seems to be more well known (also OOP).
Big Kid says: That is not what really happened. What he wrote in his letter.
Little Kid says: Pig!
If you are looking for a Paris picture book sans landmark, well you've come to the right place.
In Diane Goode's Mama's Perfect Present
, brother and sister take their dog, Zaza, shopping. They are hoping to find the perfect birthday present for their Mama. Along the way they consider flowers, shoes, an elaborate cake, a splendid red dress and song birds. However, Zaza's giggle-inducing antics reveal the shortcomings of each choice. Any parent who has received a handmade gift from her child will appreciate the gift the sibling's finally settle on.
In Mama's Perfect Present, 1920s (possibly 30s?) Paris is a world of fashionable shops and a mix of hardworking, elegant and perhaps a bit snooty grownups. Goode's illustrations are extremely appealing and I found the "Frenchness" of the adult faces very amusing. Although there is no Eiffel Tower or Champs Elysees, there is a famous French painting which will take you by surprise.
This is one of my 2 year old's favorite books.... and for good reason.
Want More?
Read Goode's other book about the siblings looking for Mama in a Parisian train station, Where's Our Mama?
(I'll review it, too, if I get a chance!).
Visit the author's website.
Read a Q&A with the author.
Little Kid says: I want the dog book.
Satomi Ichikawa's Come Fly With Me
evokes the same comforting mood that pervades her other Paris Book, La La Rose
(see my review here). Again, Ichikawa's main characters are cuddly toys. This time best friends airplane and stuffed dog decide to go "Somewhere." That "Somewhere" turns out to be the White Dome of the Sacré-Coeur in Paris. Along the way, they encounter some minor weather trouble, but not enough to dampen the spirit of adventure. Upon arriving at their destination a beautiful surprise awaits them because "the best part of going Somewhere... is surprise."
As with Ichikawa's La La Rose, this is not a book "about the landmarks of Paris." Ichikawa's illustrations of the friends' journey offers a variety of views of the city: from flying low above the steep Paris stairways, to skimming rooftops, to soaring aerial perspectives. And truly, is there any city in the world which presents a more beautiful collections of rooftops?
Just like La La Rose, Come Fly With Me is a big hit with my toddler. Adventure, Friendship, Paris, Stuffed Toys and a Rainbow? What more could a young explorer need?
Want More?
Read my review of Ichikawa's La La Rose.
Read more about the Sacré-Coeur in Montmartre at its web page.
Read a professional review at Publisher's Weekly.
Little Kid says: A rainbow!
Big Kid says: Can we go to the top of that building?
What better way to kick off "April in Paris" than to introduce you to Hilda Louise. Hilda Louise joins forces with Madeline and Mirette to create a trio of intrepid Parisian red-haired girls.
Oliver Dunrea's The Tale of Hilda Louise
starts mysteriously, Hilda's parents have disappeared in the Swiss Alps, and even embroidering 2,357 handkerchiefs cannot save her from the boredom of living in an orphanage (loving environment, though it is). The opening image is that of Hilda Louise looking out of a big window at the city, knowing in that in all that bigness whatever she has lost is just waiting to be found.
Things get even stranger, however, when one day Hilda Louise (how can you not love that name?) starts to float. How magnifique to be able to explore the city from above, like a bird. As you might guess, many familiar Paris features figure into Hilda Louise's flight, all of which fascinate her: sidewalk cafes, rooftop ledges where birds nest (after all, it's the city, not the country) cobblestone streets, artists wearing straw hats, and --of course -- gargoyles who, I'm guessing, normally relish their solitude high above the city. But it's not a tourist's guide to the city. Dunrea wisely avoids that temptation.
Only when Hilda Louise finds her heart's desire can she finally come back down to earth. One can only hope for such a happy ending for the rest of us.
Want More?
Visit Olivier Dunrea's website.
Kirkus review.
Big Kid says: Flying is cool.
Little Kid says: That is a bird.
Since I started this blog project I have become intrigued by the many different ways the city can figure in a picture book. The city is not always the star of the show, sometimes it remains quiet, in the background. Yet it is always there, creating an aura of adventure.
Amy Hest's The Purple Coat
, is not about the city. Gabrielle wants, this year, to have a purple coat, not a navy blue one like she has always had. The book is a charming story of how Gabrielle and her grandfather come up with a new idea for her coat and how they convince her mother to compromise on the new color.
What interested me most about the book is the role the city plays. Every fall, Gabrielle and her mother take two trains, arriving through busy Penn Station in New York City where Gabrielle's grandfather is a tailor "on the twenty-eighth floor in a fancy office building that is even taller than that. " By the time the pair reach the tailor's shop in an elevator that is "too fast and too crowded" the city has retreated into the background. The rest of the action may take place in the quiet seclusion of grandfather's shop, but the city is still there. Illustrator Amy Schwartz has wisely included frequent glimpses of the city out the the windows. One of my favorite moments in the book is when the grandfather, contemplating Gabrielle's request for a purple coat, stands looking out the window at the city. It's as if the city, with all of its infinite variety of people and places provides the perfect reminder that one need not always have the same blue coat every year.
The beginning of this book reminded me of how exciting I found trips to the city when I was young (in my case it was San Francisco). The excitement of heading off to the city and the strangeness of the crowds must have added to Gabrielle's nervousness of asking for a purple coat.
The big city and a new purple coat: it's what every girl dreams of.
Want More?
Read A New Coat for Anna, a very different story set in a post-WWII European city (Berlin?). Someone (not me) should write a comparison of the two books.
Visit Amy Hest's website.
Read an interview with Amy Schwartz at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.
Big Kid says: They had to take two trains to get to Penn Station? I wonder what train they took to the shop. That sign says the 1, 2 and 3. [You can see where his interest lies... not with purple coats.]
It sure doesn't feel like Spring here in New York City right now, so it must be a perfect time to read Lucille Clifton's The Boy Who Didn't Believe in Spring
.
Everybody's talking about, but where is it? "Look here, man," King Shabazz says to his friend Tony Polito, "I'm goin to get me some of this Spring." And with that, the two boys set out on a mission around their urban neighborhood to locate the mysterious season. In fact, the illusive Spring ends up being so enticing the boys venture further than they ever have before... even past the corner with the streetlight. Their perseverance pays off when they find Spring: it's small, but for the boys it is beautiful and exciting.
The setting for this book is the inner city of the 1970s, but it's not a grim place. Illustrator Brinton Turkle fills the city streets with a variety of people engaged in everyday activities like delivering the mail and eating at diners. There are yummy b-b-q smells and colorful stained glass windows at the Church of the Solid Rock.
I think even kids who are unfamiliar with the city will be able to relate to the earnestness with which the boys set out on their search. Put it on your to-read list this Spring.
Want More?
Read a terrific and thoughtful review at a wrung sponge.
Read about Lucille Clifton at The Poetry Foundation, or in her obituary in the New York Times.
Learn about the illustrator.
Big Kid says: I love Spring. I also want to find a bird's nest.
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By: Storied Cities,
on 8/11/2011
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Even though we don't actually get to view much of Paris proper in Johanna Wright's 
, I'm including it in "April in Paris" because I absolutely adore the illustrations. I won't bother writing much more since many, many reviews have already been written (see below in "Want More?") by more talented reviewers than I. Suffice it to say that in the glimpses we do get of Paris, it is easy to understand how it came by the moniker "City of Lights."
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This book sounds adorable.
I'm with you. Love Love Love Lauren Castillo. We need find a copy of this one.
Sounds like a lovely book. I have to look for her other books, the name doesn't ring a bell with me.