Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Look at this moment of loveliness above, brought to us by illustrator Kevin Hawkes. I am such a fan of his work, so I’m pleased to share a couple of illustrations from his most recent illustrated title, what Publishers Weekly calls a “cheeky yet informative biography,” The Road to Oz: Twists, Turns, Bumps, and Triumphs in the Life of L. Frank Baum (Knopf Books for Young Readers, September ’08), written by the very talented author of a whole slew, to be precise, of award-winning biographies for children, Kathleen Krull. And, as someone who has a big honkin’ space in her heart devoted to the Oz characters (translated: as a child, I was obsessed with the books and film adaptation)—even though I’d agree with Trull in her Storyteller’s Note at the close of this book that “the quality of {Baum’s} books was uneven”—I love that stunning opening illustration, in particular. School Library Journal wrote about Hawkes’ work in this book, “Hawkes’s merry paintings of the author and his characters invoke the magic of Oz within the great author’s real-world setting.” Merry, indeed.

Read the rest of this entry �

It’s my turn this month over at Guys Lit Wire. I’m over there today, weighing in on The Mighty 12: Superheroes of Greek Myth by Charles R. Smith, Jr. and illustrated by P. Craig Russell.

The Mighty 12 was released this past Spring by Little, Brown and Company and casts the gods and goddesses of Greek mythology, as you can tell by the cover here, as not unlike the (usually) young, beautiful, scantily-clad superheroes of the comics, ripped bods and all. Over at the post this morning, I’ve got my thoughts on the book, a link to Kelly Fineman’s recent interview with Smith, and a link to the spot on his site in which you can hear him read some of the poems.

If you’re so inclined, here’s the link. So, go read — and discover the wisdom of a “well-placed eagle’s wing.”

I’m going to keep this short, because it almost pains me to post on top of Eisha’s and Adrienne’s very fun post from yesterday. Scroll down a bit if you missed it then and take in the conversation, dear readers.

I’m over at Guys Lit Wire today with a bit about Marc Tyler Nobleman and illustrator Ross MacDonald’s new picture book biography, Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman, released just this week by Knopf Books for Young Readers — and already met with a handful of starred reviews. It’s all about Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, the two unsung heroes who created Superman. And I conducted a short Q & A with Nobleman as well; I didn’t give him the usually rather lengthy and Pivot-y 7-Imp treatment, since I’m guesting at another blog, but I did chat with him a bit about his new book — as well as his next project, a book for older readers about the uncredited co-creator and original writer of Batman.

Plus, you can find out who exactly a pionerd is if you go read what Marc has to say. “Pionerd” is currently my new favorite word.

Here’s the link. Enjoy!

I wanted to force this post into the Nonfiction Monday category, but it won’t quite fit. This is Nikki Giovanni’s and Chris Raschka’s brand-new adaptation of Aesop’s “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” and—to be sure—those fables of Aesop are lumped into the 398.2s. But, not only does this not qualify, I think, for the “facts first” mission of Nonfiction Monday, but Giovanni has also really elaborated on this tale, adding a new cast of characters (literally — the book opens with a spread which depicts our “cast”) and turning it into an argument for the respect for and compensation of an artist for his/her work. I speak of The Grasshopper’s Song: An Aesop’s Fable Revisited, illustrated by Raschka, and published in May by Candlewick.

“Jimmy Grasshopper was furious,” the book opens. He’s complaining to Henry Sr., a bird who eventually becomes the counsel to Jimmy-as-plaintiff with his partners (Robin, Robin, Robin, and Wren). Jimmy says he sang songs and played music all summer for the industrious ants while they harvested their food — yet the ants are shutting him out from any of the rewards. “Even in the evening, when we were all tired, I played a melody to keep up our spirits. I never thought they would turn their backs on me. It’s just not right.”

But things aren’t so black and white, as it turns out. Henry Sr. is reluctant to take the case: “You provided a service they didn’t request.” Read the rest of this entry �

I finally got my library copy of Naomi Shihab Nye’s newest book, Honeybee: Poems & Short Prose (Greenwillow; February 2008), and it was really worth the wait. (Eisha’s Poetry Friday post on Nye two weeks ago held me in good stead, though.) I’m still reading, but I wanted to share some poems and prose from it, and when I asked Naomi if I could do so—share some poems in their entirety—she gave me the go-ahead. Yes, this moment of beauty is brought to you by Naomi Shihab Nye, and I extend warm thanks to her.

Honeybee, thus far, has been a rewarding read, and I suspect that reading it again later is only going to unveil even more layers, more threads, more insights. In the introduction, she explains her fascination with bees in college and discusses the “bee woes” of today — “many reports said {in 2007} at least one third of the honeybees in the United States had mysteriously vanished.” She collected theories, she tells us, and became “obsessed…This is what happens in life. Something takes over your mind for a while and you see other things through a new filter, in a changed light. I call my friends ‘honeybee’ now, which I don’t recall doing before. If I see a lone bee hovering in a flower, I wish it well.” Read the rest of this entry �

It’s Nonfiction Monday, and I’m here again with some new picture book titles (I promise to review a novel again one day very soon). These are both biographies (of sorts) that will particularly please those who like seeing eye-poppingly beautiful art in their picture books.

First is a new biography of the one and only Jacques Cousteau, Manfish, by Jennifer Berne and illustrated by French illustrator Eric Puybaret (Chronicle Books, April 2008). Berne sets out to tell us the life story of Cousteau—but only to some extent. Her bigger purpose is to convey his passion for conservation and teaching conservation to the world, particularly children. Berne opens it on quite the lyrical note:

“Bubbles rising
Through the silence of the sea,
Silvery beads of breath
From a man
Deep, Deep down
In a strange and shimmering ocean land
Of swaying plants and fantastic sea creatures,
A manfish
Swimming, diving
Into the unknown,
Exploring underwater worlds no one has ever seen.”

This is our opening spread, Puybaret showing us Coustea from behind in a stunning underwater world of aquamarine. “Our story starts many years before, in France with a little baby boy born under the summer sun,” the book continues. Jacques was a curious boy, interested in not only water, but also creating his own books, machines, blueprints, movies, and more. After joining the French Navy, he sailed the world and filmed what he saw: “In China, he filmed men catching fish with their bare hands. They held their breath underwater for many minutes. Jacques wondered what that would be like.” Read the rest of this entry �

If there were any doubt to the reader that this was a biography of Lady Liberty, illustrator Matt Tavares makes it clear on the title page spread with an impressive view of Manhattan from the Statue’s eyes—a very nice touch, I must say. Yes, Doreen Rappaport brings us Lady Liberty: A Biography (Candlewick; May 13, 2008), as told from the perspective of everyone from the engineers to the sculptor to those who wrote poetry in her honor to those who gathered nickels and pennies—and farm fowl—to help fund her.

In the opening spread—the author’s own musings on her grandfather’s journey one hundred and twenty years ago from Latvia to the United States and what it must have felt like for him to see Lady Liberty in the harbor—Tavares brings to life the boat of Rappaport’s grandfather, “a ship packed with people from many different countries . . . and there was Lady Liberty greeting them all . . . People lifted babies so they could see her. Tears ran down my grandfather’s face. People around him were crying, too. And then a wave of cheering and hugging swept over the ship.” And, in another nice touch, Tavares paints the present-day Rappaport in the picture as well, standing above the immigrants and also looking reverently at the statue. Such a lovely, affecting spread, knowing she is standing above her own grandfather, perhaps even the one lifting his arms out toward the statue. Read the rest of this entry �

Want to see something neat? Ekphrasis. Ekphrasis, I tell ya. That means, essentially, poetry inspired by art, and it’s my new favorite word. Little did I know there was a word for this. Ekphrasis. I like saying it. Here’s some ekphrasis in action, and it comes from Side by Side: New Poems Inspired by Art From Around the World (Abrams Books for Young Readers, May 2008), which I’ll tell you about in a moment. This is an anthology edited by Jan Greenberg, who brought us—amongst a handful of great titles—the Printz Honor Book, Heart to Heart: New Poems Inspired by Twentieth-Century American Art (Abrams, 2001).

For the record, I’m re-printing these two poems with permission from the publisher, and this Edward Hopper painting falls under Fair Use and all that fun stuff. Also, I know these poems are HUGE, but WordPress won’t cooperate when I need to type poems with unusual formatting / spacing / indentation, so I have to basically type them into Word and make them images. Anyway, moving on…

Read the rest of this entry �

Last year, the Little Golden Book celebrated 65 years of existence, and in October Random House released Golden Legacy: How Golden Books Won Children’s Hearts, Changed Publishing Forever, and Became an American Icon Along the Way by children’s literature writer, critic, and historian, Leonard Marcus. I’m a bit slow in getting to my review of this beautifully-designed, handsome, 246-page book about the history of the Little Golden Book, as well as the illustrators and writers who wrote for them and the savvy marketing folks who sold them. And, if you’ve read a Marcus title before, you know that you get much more than just that — he also delves into the wider world of children’s publishing as a whole during the time of the rise of the Little Golden Book, takes a sweeping look at the cultural landscape of that time, and shows how the books reflected our postwar culture and how the line of books left a “deep emotional imprint” . . . and “an indelible mark on mainstream American culture.”

Read the rest of this entry �

It’s Nonfiction Monday, and I never finished Part Two of last week’s picture book round-up, so consider this it.

I thought I’d talk today about a handful of new picture book biographies of three trailblazing, unconventional women who all thought—and lived—outside the box. And, since it doesn’t get much better than the first one, let’s get right to it…

Yes, first of all, there’s What to Do About Alice?: How Alice Roosevelt Broke the Rules, Charmed the World, and Drove Her Father Teddy Crazy! by Barbara Kerley and with illustrations by Edwin Fotheringham (Scholastic; March 2008).

Have you seen this book (which pretty much revolves around the fabulous Roosevelt quote above)? As I mentioned over at Diane Chen’s School Library Journal blog when Eisha and I guest-blogged over there two weeks ago, this is another one of my top-three favorite titles thus far from this year (I mean, just look at that cover, Alice tear-assing through the White House gardens on her bike. That’s fabulous and funny in seven different directions). Oh, and I must digress for a moment and quickly add the other two are Jim Averbeck’s In a Blue Room with illustrations from Tricia Tusa (Harcourt) and Bonny Becker’s A Visitor for Bear with illustrations from Kady MacDonald Denton (Candlewick). I’m placing my Caldecott bets now. In April. Why not?

Anyway, back on track here. Kerley quite successfully gets the attention of young readers right off the bat in this title: “Theodore Roosevelt had a small problem. It wasn’t herding thousands of cattle across the Dakota badlands. HE’D DONE THAT. It wasn’t leading the Rough Riders as they charged up Kettle Hill. HE’D DONE THAT, TOO . . . Her name was Alice. Alice Lee Roosevelt was hungry to go places, meet people, do things.” Read the rest of this entry �