by Aurore Petit ; illustrated by Aurore Petit ; translated by Daniel Hahn ‧ RELEASE DATE: April 6, 2021
The final metaphor says it all: “A mother’s a home.”
Petit uses metaphors to describe the different jobs mothers do.
This French import via New Zealand opens with the pregnant mother lying on the couch, her partner’s hand atop her belly: “A mother’s a house.” Across the gutter, “She’s a car in a rush” as the two stride down the sidewalk. With the page turn, she’s a “lullaby hush,” the baby in her arms. A “permanent fountain” shows her breastfeeding, and she’s a “wall” when she blocks the now-crawling tot from her toolbox and a ladder. She serves as an island when the two are soaking in the bathtub, the babe’s tush in the air, and readers see the mother’s bare bum and a side view of her breast (and nipple) when she’s compared to “a picture” in a pose that evokes impressionist art. While a changing rhyme scheme makes reading this aloud a bit of a challenge, the fact that the phrases are scattered across page turns makes this less of a drawback, especially since children may want to pause to see how a mom is a “kangaroo pouch” or a “roof in the street.” Mom has pink skin and brown hair; her partner and child share lighter coloring and grayish-greenish hair. What’s most striking about the book, though, is its use of intense neon colors both for details and large swaths of the illustrations and for the text itself.
The final metaphor says it all: “A mother’s a home.” (Picture book. 3-7)Pub Date: April 6, 2021
ISBN: 978-1-776573-23-3
Page Count: 48
Publisher: Gecko Press
Review Posted Online: March 16, 2021
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2021
Share your opinion of this book
More by Aurore Petit
BOOK REVIEW
by Aurore Petit ; illustrated by Aurore Petit ; translated by Daniel Hahn
by Sybil Rosen ; illustrated by Camille Garoche ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 16, 2021
Renata’s wren encounter proves magical, one most children could only wish to experience outside of this lovely story.
A home-renovation project is interrupted by a family of wrens, allowing a young girl an up-close glimpse of nature.
Renata and her father enjoy working on upgrading their bathroom, installing a clawfoot bathtub, and cutting a space for a new window. One warm night, after Papi leaves the window space open, two wrens begin making a nest in the bathroom. Rather than seeing it as an unfortunate delay of their project, Renata and Papi decide to let the avian carpenters continue their work. Renata witnesses the birth of four chicks as their rosy eggs split open “like coats that are suddenly too small.” Renata finds at a crucial moment that she can help the chicks learn to fly, even with the bittersweet knowledge that it will only hasten their exits from her life. Rosen uses lively language and well-chosen details to move the story of the baby birds forward. The text suggests the strong bond built by this Afro-Latinx father and daughter with their ongoing project without needing to point it out explicitly, a light touch in a picture book full of delicate, well-drawn moments and precise wording. Garoche’s drawings are impressively detailed, from the nest’s many small bits to the developing first feathers on the chicks and the wall smudges and exposed wiring of the renovation. (This book was reviewed digitally with 10-by-20-inch double-page spreads viewed at actual size.)
Renata’s wren encounter proves magical, one most children could only wish to experience outside of this lovely story. (Picture book. 3-7)Pub Date: March 16, 2021
ISBN: 978-0-593-12320-1
Page Count: 40
Publisher: Schwartz & Wade/Random
Review Posted Online: Jan. 12, 2021
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2021
Share your opinion of this book
by Erin Guendelsberger ; illustrated by Elizaveta Tretyakova ‧ RELEASE DATE: Oct. 1, 2020
Sadly, the storytelling runs aground.
A little red sleigh has big Christmas dreams.
Although the detailed, full-color art doesn’t anthropomorphize the protagonist (which readers will likely identify as a sled and not a sleigh), a close third-person text affords the object thoughts and feelings while assigning feminine pronouns. “She longed to become Santa’s big red sleigh,” reads an early line establishing the sleigh’s motivation to leave her Christmas-shop home for the North Pole. Other toys discourage her, but she perseveres despite creeping self-doubt. A train and truck help the sleigh along, and when she wishes she were big, fast, and powerful like them, they offer encouragement and counsel patience. When a storm descends after the sleigh strikes out on her own, an unnamed girl playing in the snow brings her to a group of children who all take turns riding the sleigh down a hill. When the girl brings her home, the sleigh is crestfallen she didn’t reach the North Pole. A convoluted happily-ever-after ending shows a note from Santa that thanks the sleigh for giving children joy and invites her to the North Pole next year. “At last she understood what she was meant to do. She would build her life up spreading joy, one child at a time.” Will she leave the girl’s house to be gifted to other children? Will she stay and somehow also reach ever more children? Readers will be left wondering. (This book was reviewed digitally with 11-by-18-inch double-page spreads viewed at 31.8% of actual size.)
Sadly, the storytelling runs aground. (Picture book. 3-6)Pub Date: Oct. 1, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-72822-355-1
Page Count: 40
Publisher: Sourcebooks Wonderland
Review Posted Online: Aug. 17, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2020
Share your opinion of this book
More by Erin Guendelsberger
BOOK REVIEW
by Erin Guendelsberger ; illustrated by Jennifer Zivoin
BOOK REVIEW
by Erin Guendelsberger ; illustrated by Annelouise Mahoney
BOOK REVIEW
by Erin Guendelsberger ; illustrated by Suzie Mason
© Copyright 2024 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Hey there, book lover.
We’re glad you found a book that interests you!
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Don’t fret. We’ll find you.