Stark and his brother Phil make the most of their straitened circumstances in this memoir of growing up in the Midwest during the 1950s. The boys were happy to move to the country from their house in town, even if the one in town “did have a bathroom.” They “couldn’t afford extra stuff like a phone, car, or TV,” but they did have the hen house roof to jump from, a hill of corncobs to wrestle atop in the autumn, plenty of snow, lightning storms that raised the hair on their necks, as well as books and magazines, the radio, stuff to draw with, and even an occasional offering from the ice-cream man. In short, they had their imagination and a bunch of raw materials with which to keep them not simply occupied, but alive, mind and soul. They also had their curiosity, like how that old wringer washer worked and what would happen if you stuck your finger in the rollers. The story will come as a surprise to many readers, an alien life form with its lack of material comforts, its slow pacing, and a ten-year-old figuring “we were big enough to mow the yard so Mom wouldn’t have to pay someone.” But Stark refuses to grind the poorness of his family in the reader’s face nor traffic in easy sentiments. His scenes are Norman Rockwell–Americana, his palette ripe with color and adventure. A chewy contribution that ought to turn the heads of a few young readers. (Picture book. 5-8)
Pub Date: March 1, 2003
ISBN: 0-399-23766-6
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Putnam
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2003
Give this child’s-eye view of a day at the beach with an attentive father high marks for coziness: “When your ball blows across the sand and into the ocean and starts to drift away, your daddy could say, Didn’t I tell you not to play too close to the waves? But he doesn’t. He wades out into the cold water. And he brings your ball back to the beach and plays roll and catch with you.” Alley depicts a moppet and her relaxed-looking dad (to all appearances a single parent) in informally drawn beach and domestic settings: playing together, snuggling up on the sofa and finally hugging each other goodnight. The third-person voice is a bit distancing, but it makes the togetherness less treacly, and Dad’s mix of love and competence is less insulting, to parents and children both, than Douglas Wood’s What Dads Can’t Do (2000), illus by Doug Cushman. (Picture book. 5-7)
Pub Date: May 23, 2005
ISBN: 0-618-00361-4
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Clarion Books
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2005
An inspiring story of young boy's compelling desire to read. As a boy of nine, Booker works in a salt mine from the dark of early morning to the gloom of night, hungry for a meal, but even hungrier to learn to read. Readers follow him on his quest in Malden, Virginia, where he finds inspiration in a man ``brown as me'' reading a newspaper on a street corner. An alphabet book helps, but Booker can't make the connection to words. Seeking out ``that brown face of hope'' once again, Booker gains a sense of the sounds represented by letters, and these become his deliverance. Bradby's fine first book is tautly written, with a poetic, spiritual quality in every line. The beautifully executed, luminous illustrations capture the atmosphere of an African-American community post-slavery: the drudgery of days consumed by back- breaking labor, the texture of private lives conducted by lantern- light. There is no other context or historical note about Booker T. Washington's life, leaving readers to piece together his identity. Regardless, this is an immensely satisfying, accomplished work, resonating first with longing and then with joy. (Picture book. 5- 8)
Pub Date: Sept. 1, 1995
ISBN: 0-531-09464-2
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Orchard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1995
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