WHAT OLLIE SAW

A young pig uses vivid imagination—and possibly poor eyesight?—against sibling woes.

Ollie’s a pale-pink pig in a blue beret. He’s also a younger brother. His sister, who’s “bigger. And older,” is weighing him down. She scowls and looks disdainful; she’s a sourpuss, raining on parades. The intimate narrative voice (“Look, there’s Ollie. Maybe you already know him?”) says that Ollie’s sister “grizzle[s]”—a word most readers will learn right here—“a lot.” On family outings, Ollie’s sister calls cows “dull,” cars “dumb,” and an excursion boat a “slowpoke.” Ollie, rebelling, sees not cows but water buffalo; not cars but a circus parade with acrobats; and no plain slowpoke boat but a pirate ship—on which his sister’s tied to the mast. Ollie’s fantasy flights work so well as resistance to negativity that it’s baffling when, almost halfway through, a new possible cause for what he sees emerges: Ollie needs glasses. The sudden theme of weak eyesight never quite finds its place, nor does Ollie ever admit that he does need glasses, though readers see the evidence on the classroom blackboard—or does Ollie simply value imaginative play higher than teacher approval? In which case, why was the early theme so sister-focused? It’s OK—Posthuma’s neat borders, pale colors inside fine outlines, and steady visual restraint in even the outlandish scenes make for a tale that’s quirky yet calming.

From the Netherlands, an appreciation of imagination.