Review of Darcy and Gran Don't Like Babies by Jane Cutler Illustrations by Susannah Ryan

My husband and I always planned that our son would eventually have a brother or sister, so we've always tried to keep a range of sibling related books in our regular rotation. My mom discovered this one at the library, by chance, and it's become my favorite book to deal with the issue.

In reading reviews on Amazon.com on various books on the sibling issue it seems that many parents are critical of the books that include a main character who is upset or angry about the arrival of a baby. I can appreciate that you don't want to prepare your child for the baby to be a negative experience - on the other hand, I believe that the older child will have feelings of anger, jealousy, and fear, and normalizing those feelings is one of the values of books. We recently had Ella and the Naughty Lion out from the library. In it, Ella discovers that a lion slipped in when her baby brother arrived. The lion acts out and at times is very naughty. After reading it a couple of times I realized the lion was an analogy for Ella's behavior after her sibling's arrival - but it seems a bit too vauge to be very effective for small children. Although maybe I'm not giving kids enough credit.

This is all a long preamble for Darcy and Gran, which I think is perfect. In the beginning we see a very dejected Darcy standing in the shadows as her parents delightedly play with the new baby. The text simply states, "Darcy didn't like the baby." She goes on to report to everyone that she doesn't like the baby, to which everyone has a reply. Her mother tells her the baby is like Darcy was a long time ago; her father tells her that she'll like the baby better later; her doctor tells her she's not supposed to like the baby; and the neighbor tells her, "Of course you do." Darcy is unsatisfied with all these answers, until she tells her Gran that she doesn't like the baby - Gran says, "Me neither...I never did like babies."

Darcy and Gran head out for a day at the park. On the way home, Darcy recounts to her Gran all the things people said about Darcy not liking the baby. Gran agrees with Darcy's mom and dad. She has beautiful interpretations of the doctor and the neighbor - Gran explains that the doctor means it's okay if Darcy doesn't like the baby, the neighbor means that deep down Darcy does like the baby.

By their return home Darcy seems more accepting of the state of things, with her Gran's perspective. The final page shows Darcy and the baby sitting on Gran's lap.

The illustrations do a fantastic job of mimicing Darcy's particular point of view. The opening picture with Darcy in the shadows, looking sad and lonely suggests her state of mind - the early pages show her parents lavishing attention on the baby, literally with their backs turned to Darcy. The drawings of Darcy are very expressive: it would be a great exercise with a child to ask at different points how Darcy is feeling.

Towards the end of the book there are a series of drawings that indicate memories or imagined future events - they are painted with lighter, pale colors in bubbles with wavy edges, to set the apart from the rest of the illustrations.

Then, at the end, the pictures now reflect Darcy's improved feelings about her family dynamic. As she and Gran return from the park, baby and Dad are waiting at the door for them. On the next page Mom is on hand to give Darcy a hug (while Dad brings dinner to the table - nice touch). And in the next two-page picture, Darcy, Gran, Mom and Dad look at photo albums together as the baby bangs on pots and pans nearby.

I really like the balance the author and illustrator strike. Darcy is allowed to feel and express her dissatisfaction with the baby. No-one punishes her or discourages her. In fact, Gran totally validates her, but is also able to help her out of her narrow thinking. The unique grandchild-grandparent relationship offers some perspective Darcy can't accept from anyone else.

Review of Celeste A Day in the Park by Martin Matje

I am all in favor of children's books having a moral. In the tradition of some of Dr. Seuss's greatest stories, my personal favorite being Horton Hears A Who, I think picture books can be persuasive without being moralistic or scary or threatening. Matje's Celeste is clever in ways that parents will appreciate and is silly in ways kids will appreciate, and manages to teach a lesson at the same time.

The story is about a little girl, Celeste, and her "pet," a teddy bear named Timovitc Radetski (who goes by the nickname Tim). The plot is quite simple: Celeste and Tim head to the park for a picknick where a duck steals one of Celeste's vanilla cucumber sandwiches. Celeste, outraged by the duck's unrestrained theft of her sandwich, runs after him. A large (VERY LARGE) police officer intervenes on the duck's behalf, and Celeste is left powerless.

Matje has rapidly brought the story to a complex situation and one that suggests the powerlessness that must be a frustratingly common experience for kids. The solution, however, is wonderfully simple. Tim steps in, negotiates between Celeste and the duck, and resolves the standoff. The final pages show that all it took to make peace was three sandwiches, one for Tim, one for Celeste and one for the duck!

That Matje wrote and illustrated the book must have led to the integration of text and picture. Many pages have lettering incorporated into the illustration, or in places where there is "regular text" special words are set off in color, in a different size, or in a cursive-type script. The words become a part of the dynamic, graphic composition.

Most of the watercolor illustrations have the types of details kids love to pick out: a taxi on the city street, a bird and some bees or a snail and some flowers, all found in the park. The way Matje draws Celeste reflects careful observation of real children. She has a range of emotional states, she is either calm and contented or she is hysterical, anxious, stunned, or chagrined. The dramatic expressions she exhibits would make it easy for any child to "read" how she feels in a given situation.

But my favorite part is that in the end Celeste makes things right by letting go of her inital selfish impulse and nuturing her newfound friends with homemade sandwiches. We can't always expect our children to instinctively share or to automatically think of others, but we can hope that with a little coaxing they'll see the value of compromise.

Review of The Wind by Monique Felix

Let me say right off the bat that I have mixed emotions about books without words. I know that they're great for kids, and that they inspire creativity and an expansive way of thinking about "reading" that is valuable at nearly every age. On the other hand, there are times when it comes to reading at bedtime that I'm tired. And I don't want to narrate a series of pictures and ask engaging questions. I just want to read the words. So, with that confession on the table, let me say that as far as my son is concerned, books without words are great, and this is a wonderful example.

This is part of a series of books - we have four of them (The Wind, The Boat, The House, and The Plane) but there are quite a few more that I have not seen. The main character is a mouse and he appears at the beginning of the book on a plain white page. He begins to alter his environment by chewing that page. Each page turn brings the next part of the sequence, inspiring questions about what the child thinks is happening (or if your child is young, prompting you to describe the action). In The Wind, the mouse is chewing the background page into a square. As he does so, wind begins to blow from behind, pushing around the edges of the paper. At moments, the wind is powerful and can inspire a dramatic account of the action, if you're so inclined.

As the wind calms (and the paper square is moved away from the right side of the page) we see a scene as if from above, revealing a lone cabin in the mountains, a rising hot air balloon, a helicopter, a red propeller plane. As more details of the scene are revealed on the right hand side of each two-page spread, the mouse occupies himself on the left, creating his own form of aerial transportation out of the paper square he chewed free. On the last page he jumps down into the scene with a paper pinwheel on his tail, like a helicopter rotor.

A couple of times when reading these books, my son and I have been inspired to create out of paper whatever the mouse in the book made - a pinwheel, a paper boat or airplane. It's a fun way to connect to the book, and to demonstrate to my kid that his mom actually knows how to make stuff!

My husband complains about this book because there's a mistake in one of the illustrations that he just can't get past. After he pointed it out, I noticed yet another. But I won't mention them here - I don't want to ruin it for you!

Review of When It Starts to Snow by Phillis Gershator Illustrated by Martin Matje

I bought this book in an airport bookstore as my 20-month-old and I were about to board a cross-country flight. He was, at that point, still a lap child and I remember reading this book to him at least 10 times before the plane had even left the ground. I had recently accepted a job that would move our family from snowy Boston to sunny Arizona, and was already feeling nostalgic about the snow storms we would miss.

This book is the most beautiful combination of poetic verse and subtle teaching, all seen through the frame of a little boy who can't wait to enjoy the pleasure of the snowy world outside. The format of the book takes us through a range of animals and their reaction to the coming snow - geese fly south, fish swim deep, horses await the farmer with feed.

Matje's illustrations are absolutely charming. Each animal appears in its habitat, and animals that share the same environment (beaver and fish, pig and horse) are on opposite pages. My favorite visual tool in this book is the choice to have one page that is just an illustration - no words - and a very spare and simple illustration at that. In the text it falls just before the cadence of the repetitive verse changes rhythm, and it causes a meditative pause. The no-text page is mostly taken up with a wide expanse of snow, although it also includes the little boy peeking out from behind a tree, and for those who look closely, subtle footprints pressed into the white snow.

Another clever aspect of the illustrations is that on some pages we only see part of an animal, with the rest of the animal revealed only on the book's cover illustration. In fact, sometimes when the main character is seen, it is only his red hat that appears in the picture. I also like the way that, in places, the animal sounds are not in the same font as the rest of the text, but are drawn much larger to become a part of the page's overall graphic design. It means that my son can point out those words - the "Honk, honk, honk" of the geese or the "Oink, oink, oink" of the pig because of the way they stand out.

I mentioned that this book is educational - it actually works in scientific information about how animals adapt or hibernate in winter and what kinds of homes and dens they live in. But it's never heavy handed, which is a lovely way to learn.

Even after reading it dozens of times, many of them that first day on the plane, I still love this book, its calming text, and soothing illustrations. And because of its repetition, my son happily chimes in, especially at the end when the little boy cheers for snow - "Hip, hip, hooray!"

Review of The Witch's Children by Ursula Jones Illustrated by Russell Ayto

This is a book that was recommended to me by my sister-in-law, who is as passionate about great kids' books as I am. In fact, it was one my husband read to my pregnant belly before our son (who will be three in April) was born.

The story is about three witch's children who visit the park and get into trouble by doing magic they aren't skilled enough to undo. The story is inventive, unpredictable, and has a great twist at the end that is quite clever. There is enough repetition for young children to understand the structure of the book, but not so much that it's mind-numbing for parents. It's not scary (the witch is a typical mom who bails her kids out when they get into trouble) and it has a happy ending but if you are very religious and are opposed to the idea of witches this might not be the book for you.

The illlustrations are wonderful - I think Russell Ayto is incredibly talented. One aspect I just love is that the story is set on a windy day (you don't realize how unusual it is to have weather factor in to a children's story until you see an example where it does) and Ayto's drawings have a stylized treatment that exaggerates the wind - the children's hair blows directly to the left, and trees lean 90 degrees from vertical making the strength of the wind palpable. He varies his methods for creating episodic information - sometimes two side-by-side panels contain consequtive events, in other cases a series of small drawings cascade down the page to indicate the chronology. At times the action is set in an environmental context (the park) and at other times the drawings are simply placed on a field of graduated color.

I particularly like the way the book's design incorporates the text with the illustrations - in places words are much larger for emphasis, or slant this way and that as they appear to blow in the wind. Ayto's sense of pattern, color, and design make it an appealing visual experience and could easily inspire a clever interior designer to create a room based on its stripes, polka dots and color combinations.