Lucille Clifton's Everett Anderson's Everett Anderson's Christmas Coming is a gentle little book about a young boy who eagerly awaits Christmas by observing all that is happening around him. For five days before Christmas, he watches the snow fall on the apartments below his 14th story window, looks in store windows, decorates his tree and enjoys a party. Clifton's touching poetry takes us into the young boys' inner life full of wonder and anticipation.
There are a lot of little urban details in this lovely book that city dwellers will appreciate, although the story is easily enjoyed by everyone, no matter where they live. Everett's mom gives a party, which Everett subtly lets us know his downstairs neighbors did not appreciate. There is the careful activity of getting a tree into an elevator and playing in snow covered playgrounds. Jan Spivey Gilchrist's illustrations have a dreamy feel, which is well fitted to Clifton's poetry. Ultimately, however, this is not a book about the city, but about a wide-eyed, observant and well-loved boy.
I found Everett Anderson's Christmas Coming to be a special little book. Written in 1971 and republished in the 1990s, it's now out of print, but if it's in your library's catalog, I recommend checking it out.
Want More?
Read about Lucille Clifton.
Clifton wrote several other "Everett Anderson's" books you could search out.
When winter is done, read Clifton's The Boy Who Didn't Believe in Spring, which I reviewed here.
Big Kid says: When are we getting a tree?
Little Kid says: He wants that bicycle.
It seems like I am always writing about books set in New York City! That is not intentional, but there certainly are an abundance of them.
I'm quite surprised I have never come across Where Are You, Little Zack?before. Co-written by Judith Ross Engerle and Stephanie Gordon Tessler, Where Are You, Little Zack? is a classic tale of "lost in the city." The authors have added in a fun counting exercise, so while 3 ducks, Brick and Brack and Thackery Quack search for their brother, they are joined by 4 busy commuters, 5 taxi drivers... you get the idea. They are also joined by 80,000 Yankee fans, but don't worry, you don't have to count that high. Of course, the brothers are united in the end (after traveling on the number 9 train on the number 10 track) and all is well.
Around here, we are big fans of Brian Floca's illustrations, but I think it's interesting he does not list this book on his website. True, it's not as spectacular as his more recent books, such as Moonshot and Ballet for Martha, but his artwork is still appealing. Even while the duck brothers are still searching, little eyes can locate Little Zack playing among the many landmarks of the city. The search also takes the reader to locations high and low, wet and dry, crowded and sparse, and fast and slow around New York. The reader will certainly understand that the city is a varied and interesting place!
This book is lots of fun, and judging by the lack of reviews on Amazon, I'm guessing it's not well-known, which I find surprising. I think it would be a lov
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.
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!
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.
All of the picture books about Pale Male take a different approach. Of the three I am reviewing, Jeanette Winter's The Tale of Pale Male is the only one to begin with life for the Red-tailed hawk outside the city, pointing out that the hawks live in tall places such as trees, cliffs, or even cacti. She explains how the bird likes the high perch in order to spy tiny mice, but she then jumps a little too quickly to New York City's skyscrapers. After this somewhat awkward beginning, Winter successfully maneuvers her way through dual storyline -- on the one hand, the hawks' life in the city, and on the other hand, the reaction to the nest by New York's human residents.
Winter's depiction of the city is focused almost entirely on the height at which the birds live. We rarely see the street and in a few images, she uses a split-screen to represent the birdwatchers far below the buildings, emphasizing the height of the nest. I also found it interesting that she gave curtains only to the windows in the apartments directly below the nest, drawing attention to the contrast between the human's high nest and the birds'. I liked Winter's illustrations, even though the overriding colors are purples, pinks and aquas, but I found it odd that, until the final pages, the hawks always seemed to be wearing rather angry expressions.
Winter's text clips along and works nicely when read aloud.
Want More?
Visit Pale Male's website.
Watch a short clip from PBS' Nature episode in which the famous hawk mates on Woody Allen's balcony.
Read a short article about the author.
Big Kid says: It keeps talking about the mice!
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.
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?
Starting in the morning when everyone wakes up, yawning and ending at night, when "moms and dads are home at last," Christine Loomis' Rush Hour is a rhythmic, rhyming whirlwind tour of the adventure that is every city commuter's day.
Little Kid is so obsessed with this book, he can "read" it page by page to himself. I'm not surprised. Loomis' uses words guaranteed to give any toddler and preschooler a heady buzz: "Whizzing, zipping, clickety clack, rumbling, roaring, jiggling, jumping, left turn, right turn, backing, bumping."
Mari Takabayashi's illustrations are busy, busy, busy, reflecting the crowds and bustle of the city. What I like best is the immense variety of experiences she illustrates. For example, when "people have begun their jobs," she doesn't stop at the standard police officer, teacher and business person -- there are more than 20 careers pictured. There are small details one might not normally think about: a man retrieves his mail from a row of apartment post boxes, a kitchen lacks adequate counter space, in the middle of the day, subway platforms are much emptier. It's the kind of city life detail I enjoy seeing in urban picture books.
Even though the city depicted is New York, none of the text is specific to NYC. I almost wish that the pictures were more city-generic, but of course my boys like to recognize the buses and trains they see everyday.
If your kid loves things with wheels, this book is sure to be a hit. But you might have to read it 12 dozen times.
Fair warning.
Want more?
Visit the illustrator's website.
Watch this you tube video of a crowded subway in Japan. Can you imagine if we had these white gloved "helpers" in NYC!
Little Kid says: Rush Hour, please!
I confess that I don't really understand the appeal of the classic story of the Gingerbread Boy. To whom are we supposed to relate? A cookie brat on the run? A crafty fox? The exhausted townsfolk? Enlighten me. I can't figure it out.
However, my little guy doesn't share my confusion. He loves Richard Egielski's The Gingerbread Boy. In this modern (and blissfully simple) retelling the sweet and spicy boy jumps out of an apartment window and is chased across New York City by rats, construction workers, subway musicians and mounted police. I admit that this pack would keep me running too! We see lots of familiar sites: subways, high rises, even the ubiquitous apartment clothesline. The fox, of course, lives in the zoo, where he can conveniently "help" the runaway across the pond in Central Park. Egielski's illustrations are bright and fun with detail-filled chase scenes so that even a jaded mom like me can get carried away with the action.
But I am still bothered by two things.: 1. You do not put icing on a cookie before you put it into the oven; and 2. Why is he a Gingerbread Boy, if he says "You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man." But that's just me.
Want more?
Explore SurLaLune's Gingerbread Boy website and learn about the story's history and other adaptations.
Visit the author's website.
Little Kid says: Run! Run! Run!
I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by the huge stack of books I want to write about on this blog. In order to avoid my usual response, which would be to write nothing at all, I will choose a simple book.
Even though it's simple, it's still great. I've already written about Stephen T. Johnson's City by Numbers, but his Alphabet City is also worth taking a look at. At least, the Caldecott judges thought so, for they awarded it an Honor Medal.
There are certainly numerous alphabet books out there, so why pick up this one? I suppose one answer would be that it challenges you to see everyday objects as letters: the Brooklyn Bridge is an M, the curve of a railing is a J, and so forth. However, Johnson's illustrations are so extraordinary -- they border on photography -- that the letter hunt is really a vehicle for exploring beauty in the public urban environment. In fact, I found I was examining the overall composition of the urban objects, rather than actually searching for the letters.
Although, the book is called Alphabet City, most objects will be familiar to non-city kids: lamp posts, leaves on a sidewalk, telephone poles, park benches. Check it out, you will be inspired to take a look around you.
Want More?
Take a look at the author's website. He has done some interesting public art projects, including murals at the Dekalb subway station in Brooklyn and a proposal for the World Trade Center Memorial.
Big Kid says: That must be in the train station.
Little Kid says: A!
I am always very much relieved when my 2 year old's latest book obsession does not involve cars and trucks... or trains and planes ... or anything with wheels, really. Ever since we received Steven Savage's new wordless picture book, Where's Walrus? a week or so ago, he has been constantly pulling it off the shelf to read, thus relieving me of the task of making vehicular sound effects while reading to him.
Using the same minimalist retro graphic style he employed in Lauren Thompson's Polar Bear Night (a New York Times Best Illustrated Book), Savage has created the wonderfully simple and wordless Where's Walrus?. A walrus sneaks out through the zoo gates, and in order to evade the zookeeper he disguises himself by donning the various hats of his fellow city inhabitants such as construction worker, fountain mermaid, plein air painter.... etc.
Anyone who has visited a zoo can imagine life must be rather dull for the animals. What walrus wouldn't dream of getting up on stage with the dance hall girls or sitting down to coffee and donuts at the local diner? There are so many things to see and do in the city, after all! Perhaps the walrus was looking for his true calling? If so, he might remember the old saying, "there's no place like home." He can't resist the siren call of the water, but this time there is a spectacular twist, tuck, forward pike and splash and life in the zoo won't be quite as boring anymore.
Don't underestimate the value of a good wordless picture book. There ends up being a lot of interaction between reader and listener. One of my sessions with the little guy went something like this:
"Where's Walrus?" "Right there!" "What hat is he wearing?" "Yellow!" "Yes, a construction worker hat." "Hiding!"With a wordless book, there is no hurry to get back to the text or turn the page until all discussion about the picture is finished.
This book is brand new to the shelves and you are sure to enjoy it.
Want more? Visit
Steven Savage's website.
Watch the trailer below. It truly captures the spirit of the book.
Looks fantastic! I would love to get a look at it :)
-Reshama
www.stackingbooks.com
This book looks fantastic. I was born and grew up in NYC. The book captures the movement and vibes of the city. A lot of special needs and/or hyperactive reluctant readers would also enjoy this book. Great recommendation..thanks!
I just love books about NYC (it is, after all, my favorite city) and this one sounds like fun. But I am very curious to see the story come alive - that sounds very intriguing.