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Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection
Edited by Matt Dembicki
Fulcrum Books
$22.95
ISBN: 978-1-55591-724-1
Ages 9-12
On shelves now.

This year I helped a committee come up with the 100 best books for children. This list has been produced for a while and each year we make sure to include a folk and fairytale section. The problem? With each passing year publishers produce less and less folk and fairytales for kids. In the past this was a serious category, with a variety of different authors and illustrators all battling it out for folktale supremacy. Nowadays, you can read through a big publisher’s full catalog for the upcoming season and not find a single solitary folktale gracing their lists. It’s sad really. Maybe that’s part of the reason that Trickster, as edited by Matt Dembicki, appealed so strongly to me. This isn’t just a graphic novel and it isn’t just a pairing of smart writers and great artists. Dembicki has come up with a way of collecting a wide variety of Native American folktales into a single source, done in such a way that kids will find themselves enthralled. When was the last time a book of folktales enthralled one of your kids anyway? It’s remarkable. Not that it’s a perfect collection (there are a couple things I’d change) but generally speaking I hope Trickster acts as a sign of good things to come. I wouldn’t call it the ultimate solution to the current folktale crisis but I would call it a solution. And in this day and age of publishing, there’s something to be said for that.

Twenty-one Native American storytellers are paired with twenty-one artists. Each storyteller tells a tale about a trickster type character. Coyote, raven, rabbit, raccoon, dog, wolf, beaver, and wildcat all have their day. The sheer range of storytellers is impressive, calling upon folks from Hawaii to the Eastern shore, from Alaska to Florida. Sometimes the stories are told traditionally. Sometimes they utilize a lot of modern terms (you don’t usually run across the term “crystal cathedral thinking” in a book of folktales these days). The final result is an eclectic collection, where each story plays off of the ones paired before and after it. Though oral in nature, editor Matt Dembicki finds a way to make these tales as fresh and spontaneous on the printed page as when they were told to generations of eager listeners.

I liked the sheer array of kinds of tricksters in this book. In some cases they were villains that had to be outsmarted. Other times they were unrepentant bad boys (never bad girls, alas) who always got their way. Sometimes they were wise and powerful, and other times very small and more sprite than single entity. I also enjoyed seeing similar stories repeat in different places. For example, in three different stories a trickster pretends to be dead in order to lure its prospective meal nice and close. These include “Ho

Farm
By Elisha Cooper
Orchard Books (an imprint of Scholastic)
$17.99
ISBN: 978-0-545-07075-1
Ages 5-10
On shelves now

As a children’s librarian living in New York City, I get a really skewed view of the world. For example, a book like Christoph Niemann’s Subway will get released and all the children I see are hugely into it. For them, the subway is a part of life and that book shows them what they already know. What I have to remind myself is that Manhattan children, for all their charms, are aberrations. Lots of kids in the United States haven’t a clue what a working subway system looks or feels like. So when a book like Farm falls into my lap my brain has to do a 180 in the opposite direction. Lots of city kids have never been to a real working farm before. They understand them in the vaguest of senses. Growing up they learned that animals lived on the farm with a moo moo here and a baa baa there. Actual working farms, however, are the kinds of things you see outside your car window on your way from one part of the country to another. They are near magical places. All that land. All that sky. That’s why I’m delighted that a book like Farm even exists. It has a twofold purpose. For kids who have never experienced a farm firsthand, it provides a glimpse into a world as different and magical as any fantasy land. And for kids who already have a working knowledge of farms and the countryside, the book is a magnificent mirror that takes the practical beauty of their everyday lives and spins it into storytelling gold.

We begin in that time when spring has only started to make some headway against winter. When the days start to warm up but the fields are just a mass of brown dirt. We meet the equipment, the family, the hired hands, and the animals. We watch the tiller turn the soil, “the fields change from the color of milk chocolate to the color of dark chocolate.” We see seeds being planted, rains come, and crops grow. We meet the cats and the cows, and follow the family into town on occasion. There are summer nights and days and kids going back to school once again. To crops come in, the winter falls, and it’s all in the life of a single farm.

Kids love process. Not all kids, but a lot of them. They like to know how things are made and how things come to be. Farm, in a sense, is all about process, but it doesn’t get hung up on the concept. So you’ll learn about different kinds of farms, how tractors work, and what the various seasons resemble. But you’ll also see the downtime of the farmer and his kids. They go to town and chat with neighbors. The boy amuses himself by throwing tomatoes at birds or building forts out of straw. The girl, who is getting older, spends time reading books or staying away from home more and more often. Best of all, kids these days have a tendency to think that farming is an occupation of the past. So this book works in current technology without making it so prominent that the book will date anytime soon. A broken tractor means that a farmer has to call a neighbor on his cell to get it fixed. Much later during the harvesting “The farmer checks the corn’s yield on his computer and ta

All right, all right, all righty, all right then.  Where to begin . . . I know.  With a tribute that deserves notice first and foremost.  I had heard that Laura Amy Schlitz was writing an obituary for her friend, fellow writer Eva Ibbotson.  I expected it to be brilliant.  It has, in fact, exceeded my expectations.  So much so that it gives me the rather morbid hope that I die before Laura just so that she can write an obit for me as well.  Nobody does it better.

• Hooray!  It’s time of the year again!  The Best Book lists of 2010 are beginning to arrive.  Just the other day New York Public Library decided on their 2010 list of 100 Books for Reading and Sharing (I’m not offering any hints, but it’s good).  They’ll be printing that soon.  And now Publishers’ Weekly has release their own Best Children’s Books 2010.  I don’t agree with all their choices, but it’s certainly got some great books on there.  Be sure to check it out.

• Speaking of Bests, my co-author Peter Sieruta at Collecting Children’s Books just printed the list of the 2010 ABC New Voices list of “outstanding debut books by authors for middle-grade and young-adult readers.”  I must say, I’m more than a little disappointed in the results.  No Adam Gidwitz.  No Kate Milford.  No Margi Preus.  No N.H. Senzai.  We must have been reading very different authors this year, those independent booksellers and I.  I would like to read The Clockwork Three, though.  I’ve been hearing good things.

• Wow!  So somehow I was unaware that Lisa Brown (she of the recent picture book Vampire Boy’s Good Night) had created a large archive of three panel cartoon reviews of various works of classic literature.  Or, if not classic literature, at least well known literature.   Some of you, I know, will be fond of the Little House one.  Thanks to Educating Alice for the link.

• Got word the other day from illustrator Annie Beth Ericsson that due to the fact that NYC’s Mayor is declaring a brand new Illustration Week soon, she is going to interview a whole slew of new up-and-coming illustrators “many of them children’s book-related” on her blog Walking in Public.   Sounds good to me.  Please note, oh ye librarians that work with small children, that a couple of the illustrators have images that aren’t necessarily workplace friendly.  Good stuff that should be checked out, though!

• The screening of the children’s literary documentary Library of the Early Mind went swimmingly here at NYPL last week.  But don’t take my word for it.

• You know that
  7 Comments on Fusenews: “swinish Milneish parts”, last added: 11/11/2010
  Display Comments
  Debbie Reese said, on 11/9/2010 5:07:00 AM
  

  Hi Betsy,

  That was my first visit to Kalamazoo, and I liked it so much, that I’ll pose the question (to you) that I often get… Why did you leave there? (For me, its “why did you leave NM for Illinois? and the answer is grad school.) The library is gorgeous. And the rolling hills, fall colors… And the hospitality, too! All in all, a terrific visit.

  Regarding my reference to the list… Did I note that it wasn’t your personal list? I don’t, in fact, recall just what I said, but will make absolutely sure to do it in the future when I reference the list in a lecture. I was talking about the prevalence of stereotypical images and referenced the list and my analysis of the list. Words matter, as I take great care to point out, and I certainly don’t want to add confusion to the work you do, and did, with that list. I’ll make a clarification on my post about the seminar.

  An aside… yesterday I pulled up Amazon’s list of “Bestsellers in Children’s Native American Books” and posted that list to my blog. I haven’t done much with it yet, but it occurs to me that it’d be interesting to see how much cross-over there is from that list to the list generated from your poll.

  Elizabeth Bird said, on 11/9/2010 8:21:00 AM
  

  Thanks, Debbie! Ah, Kalamazoo. You know, as a kid I always thought I’d end up in Kalamazoo again. Somehow that hasn’t quite turned out that way, but I’m a big-time fan of the town. So glad they treated you well! They’re swell folks, those Kalamazooians.

  And many thanks for understanding why I’d want to clarify that my list was a poll rather than something I conjured from my own noggin. I do agree with you on a fair number of the titles and find your commentary a necessary part of the list itself. And thanks for letting me know about the new post to your blog! I too would be interested in seeing how much crossover there is.

  Now what’s your take on that graphic novel collection Native and that new MG novel The Mourning Wars? I’ve been dying to know!

  Debbie Reese said, on 11/9/2010 9:38:00 AM
  

  The graphic novel… I wish the people who put it together (designers?) had made clear what tribe each story is from. The info is in the back with the bios, but I’d have liked to see it with each story.

  MOURNING WARS? I don’t know it… I’ll look for it. Publishers do not send me books. I only get them when someone asks me “have you seen” — and then I track things down, usually buying them or borrowing from the library. I read some blogger’s comments, about how publishers send them books, and I wonder how they get on those publisher’s distribution lists.

  I admire how much you are able to do. I have stacks of things around me that I’ve not yet blogged about. Like LAST SUMMER OF THE DEATH WARRIORS, which I like. And, I’ve got Pratchett’s NATION here with dozens of tags sticking out…. things that ‘broke the magic’ for me (to use Cynthia Leitich Smith’s phrase from her talk at Kalamazoo). And I just got I AM NUCHU… But, I’m teaching, and put a lot of time into that.

  Richard said, on 11/9/2010 9:44:00 AM
  

  Sometimes I think authors should leave well enough alone rather than ruin a good thing. I’m referring to the debate in the Observer on whether JK Rowling should continue with another Harry Potter book. In the context of this post Betsy alluded to the prequels of the Star Wars saga.

  Well…this just got my juices flowing…

  Coincidently, the other day on cable TV I saw the movie Phantom Menace (prequel #1) for only the second time in my life. The first time was in a theater when it was released back in 1999.

  I thought it was bad then. But sitting through the movie a second time really drove home how bad it really was.

  I was interested to see how others felt, so I went out on the Internet and poked around. On You Tube there was a review of the film that was one of the funniest and most clever things I’ve ever seen. Actually, it was more a “seven part dissertation” on how not to make a movie (or craft a story).

  Due to some coarse language, as well as a few short segments that are a bit off-color, the 7-part video may not pass “Video Sunday” muster. But otherwise, it was spot on! It’s a compendium of everything concerning “story as it relates movies”. Of course the observations are equally applicable to “story as it relates to books”.

  In this season of Newbery debates, putting aside all the individual nitpicky criteria, for me a book boils down to one thing…
  Does it tell a good story.

  For a primer on how not to craft a story:
  1- Watch the original Star Wars movie.
  2- Watch The Phantom Menace.
  3- Find the You Tube “Phantom Menace Review Part 1″, and view all seven parts.

  One of the opening lines of the vide #1 review is:
  “The unfortunate reality of the Star Wars prequels is that they will be around…forever.
  They will never go away.
  They can never be undone.”

  :paula said, on 11/9/2010 2:48:00 PM
  

  Jeez, I was using Anakin Skywalker as an example of how NOT to evolve a villain (I was reviewing Barry Lyga’s Archvillain), and I could not even bring myself to link to anything from those Star Wars prequels. SO BAD. My kids adore them though, which really calls their judgment into question, in my opinion.

  Elizabeth Bluemle said, on 11/11/2010 4:41:00 PM
  

  Betsy, publishers had to submit their books to be considered for the New Voices program, which accounts for the omission of those wonderful books you mention.

  Elizabeth Bird said, on 11/11/2010 7:32:00 PM
  

  Gah! Then I shall run about NYC kicking the publishers in the shins. Thoroughly.

  Add a Comment

Ubiquitous: Celebrating Nature’s Survivors
By Joyce Sidman
Illustrated by Beckie Prange
$17.00
ISBN: 978-0-618-71719-4
Ages 6-10
On shelves now.

I believe that there are different muses of children’s literature. You have you Beautiful Spine muses, your Great Editor muses, your Awe-Inspiring Marketing muses, and your Copyediting Magnificence muses. Each one of these references those elements of the production of a book that authors and illustrators cannot wholly control. In terms of picture books, however, the greatest muse of all these, the big mama muse on high, would have to be the Serendipity Muse. This is the muse that pairs great authors with great illustrators to produce books of unparalleled beauty. And as I see it, poet Joyce Sidman and artist Beckie Prange must have independent alters dedicated to this muse tucked in a back corner of their gardening sheds or something. How else to explain their slam bang pairing? Besides a clever editor, of course. I mean first we saw them working together on Song of the Water Boatman and Other Pond Poems, which immediately went on to win a highly coveted Caldecott Honor. Now this year we get to see their newest collaboration Ubiquitous: Celebrating Nature’s Survivors. Much like Water Boatman this new pairing combines factual information with poems and pictures, but its focus is entirely different. And, of course, it’s an equal pleasure to both ears and eyes. The muse knows her stuff.

“Ubiquitous (yoo-bik-wi-tuhs): Something that is (or seems to be) everywhere at the same time.” Imagine having to select those denizens of earth that at one time or another were or are ubiquitous. The species that have managed to stay in existence long after most have gone extinct. It can’t be easy but poet Joyce Sidman has her ways. In a series of fourteen poems she examines everything from the earliest bacteria on the globe to the very dandelions beneath our feet. Each subject gets a poem about its life and existence, and then Ms. Sidman provides accompanying non-fiction information about the subject. So in the case of coyotes, the poem “Come with Us!” is told in the voice of the coyotes themselves, urging others to “Come drink in the hot odors, / come parry and mark and pounce.” On the opposite page we then learn the Latin term for coyotes, how long they’ve been on this earth, their size, and any other pertinent information about them. Beckie Prange’s linocuts and hand-colored watercolors perfectly offset both the grandeur and the humor of Sidman’s work. A Glossary of terms can be found in the back.

Sidman’s poems could easily have all been the same format. They could have all had the same ABAB or AABB structure. Instead, they mix things up a bit. Here we can see concrete poems and poems that follow ABAB with AABB. And some, like the squirrel poem “Tail Tale” (which is my favorite in the book) don’t even rhyme. This constant change keeps r

Departure Time
By Truus Matti
Translated by Nancy Forest-Flier
namelos
$18.95
ISBN: 978-1-60898-009-3
Ages 9-12
On shelves now.

Translated children’s novels have a tough row to hoe. In my experience as a children’s librarian I’ll often find that folks react to them in a variety of different ways. Sometimes they like them, but often they’ll dislike the books and then fail to express what it is about the book they don’t like. Often it all breaks down into feelings. I’ve had people tell me that they found The Swan’s Child by Sjoerd Kuyper “special”, though they couldn’t pinpoint why. Others have said that The Squirrel’s Birthday and Other Parties by Toon Tellegen just wasn’t their cup of tea. I find this reaction to translated works frustrating but there’s little that I can do about it. I mean, you can’t contest a reader’s gut reaction, right? So it is with the deepest pleasure that I discovered Departure Time by Truus Matti. Part mystery, part fantasy, part philosophy (I keep comparing it in my head to Sophie’s World, but in a good way), I guarantee that once you start reading you may never feel inclined to stop. This is a book for the smart kids.

Two girls. The same girls? Impossible to say. When the book opens there are two competing narratives, and which one should you trust? Story #1 is about a nameless girl. She can remember nothing of her past and has no idea why she is struggling through a desert with only a bag full of music books by her side. Soon she finds a dilapidated hotel in the distance and upon entering is met by a gray fox and a large white rat. The two seem to mistake her for someone else at first, but as time goes on she earns their trust and their help in solving who she is and who the mysterious denizen of the hotel’s top floor might be. Story #2 weaves around Story #1 and is seemingly straightforward. Mouse’s father has died and in the depths of her grief and guilt, she remembers the events that led to his dying and the fateful letter that she is certain contributed to his demise. As readers parse the two stories they notice similarities between the two. Is Mouse the girl in Story #1? Who is the mysterious music player? The answers will honestly surprise you.

This is going to make me sound a bit off my nut, but you know what this book reminded me the most of? When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. There’s no good reason for this. Stead’s novel was a science fiction/historical fiction bit of realism, with a dash of the unexpected on the side. Departure Time in contrast appears to be realistic fantasy, or fantastical realism. Magical realism, let’s say. Just the same, there are similarities to be found between both books. In When You Reach Me the main character is speaking to us from the future about mysteri

Bink and Gollie
By Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee
Illustrated by Tony Fucile
Candlewick Press
$15.99
ISBN: 978-0-7636-3266-3
Ages 6-8
On shelves September 14^th

I eye Bink and Gollie across the room with a slow reptilian stare. I yell at it, “I refuse to be charmed by you!” I throw a shoe. Bink and Gollie, to its credit, does not allow itself to be sucked into my childish behavior. I edge a little closer. I cry, “I know your pictures are amazing and your writing manages to be loquacious without being precious but I am not fooled!” I throw my other shoe, which unfortunately means that I am now without shoes. Bink and Gollie is now looking at me with a mixture of amusement and pity. I fall to my knees and crawl forward. When I’m close enough I whisper, “I lied. You’re amazing. You’re everything a person would want in a children’s book. You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.” I succumb. Bink and Gollie strokes my hair as I cry uncontrollably, but it knows I am telling the truth. It really is the best thing ever. And what’s more, it’s a book like nothing else you’ve ever seen. Nothing. Ever. Seen. Trust me on this one. I see a lot of books.

Put together two Minnesotans and one animator and what do you get? Bink and Gollie, of course. Bink is a diminutive pixie, all wild blond hair and a penchant for falling madly in love with things. Gollie, in contrast, is a staid and measured companion, unwilling to be pulled into Bink’s obsessions if she can possibly help it. The two are best friends and in this book we are treated to three of their adventures. In the first, Bink falls head over heels for a pair of brightly colored socks that irk Gollie to the extreme. A compromise must be reached. In the second tale Gollie is determined to scale the heights of the Andes Mountains in her living room but finds it difficult to do so when Bink keeps knocking on her front door. In the third, Bink becomes enamored of a goldfish. Gollie cannot see its appeal, but when a terrible accident occurs she’s the one who knows exactly what to do. If you seek marvelous companions, look no further than the tales you’ll find here.

The great pairings of children’s literature involve friends with differences. Danny and his dinosaur. Houndsley and Catina. Elephant and Piggy. George and Martha. But the greatest of all these and the standard bearers if you will, are undoubtedly Frog and Toad. There’s something about their particular combination of exasperation and affection that rings true. Until now, I’ve seen few few very few characters that tap into that same feeling, a

Hereville: How Mirka Got Her Sword
By Barry Deutsch
Amulet Books (an imprint of Abrams)
$15.95
ISBN: 978-0-8109-8422-6
Ages 9-12
On shelves November 1, 2010

“Yet another troll-fighting 11-year-old Orthodox Jewish girl,” says the byline. Well seriously. How was I supposed to pass that up? I’d grabbed a copy of Hereville at an American Library Association conference along with a whole host of other books. I don’t think I even gave it half a glance at the time. Just nabbed, stuffed, and scooted. It was only back in the comfort of my hotel room as I repacked my bags that the byline got my attention. I sat down for a quick look. Twenty minutes later I was still reading, with no intention at all of repacking anything until I was done. In my experience, fantasy novels for children do not like to involve religion in any way, shape, or form. And children’s graphic novels? Puh-leeze. You’re as likely to find a copy of Babymouse wax rhapsodic on the topic of organized religion as you are a copy of Harry Potter. So to read Barry Deutsch’s book is to experience a mild marvel. There is religion, fantasy, knitting, some of the best art I’ve seen since The Secret Science Alliance, and a story that actually makes you sit up and feel something. This is like nothing I’ve ever encountered before, and I think it’s truly remarkable. Without a doubt, this is the best graphic novel of 2010 for kids. Bar none.

Mirka has a dream, but it’s not the kind of thing that gets a lot of support. More than anything else in the entire world she wants to fight dragons. The problem? She’s eleven, a girl, and she lives in the Jewish Orthodox town of Hereville. Still, Mirka gets a bit closer to her dream when she incurs the wrath of a witch’s pig, then does it a good deed, thereby indebting its witch to her. As it turns out, the witch tells Mirka that there is a good sword in the neighborhood, but the only way to get it is to defeat a troll. And when push comes to shove, Mirka’s going to have to use all her smarts and cunning to defeat an enemy that prizes one of the arts she loathes the most.

Think about children’s fantasy novels and religion for a moment. Religion in fantasies for kids tends to skew one of three ways. You can incorporate it and make it the entire point of the novel (Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials, the Narnia books of C.S. Lewis, or Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time series which is technically science fiction anyway). You can make up an entirely new religion of your own (as in the novels of Frances Hardinge, 3 Comments on Review of the Day – Hereville: How Mirka Got Her Sword by Barry Deutsch, last added: 8/17/2010