Wonderfully grouchy, with a touch of wickedness and a soupçon of warmth and color.
Introducing Pug Man, a wrinkled sack of grump…when things aren’t going his way.
Meschenmoser draws Pug Man as a thicket of spidery, gray lines. Readers meet him while he is still under the bedcovers, and he reeks of grump. Finally: there’s his face, which is a little squinty for a pug. It doesn’t matter. This dog has character. He has slept until noon. Grump. He does his business. (He looks like Whistler’s mother relieving herself.) Grump. There is no milk, cereal, nor coffee. Grump, grump, grump. The morning paper has been left out in the rain. “It was a bad day for Pug Man.” But wait. “Suddenly a fairy appeared.” A pink and gold fairy that looks as if she has been drawn by a kindergartner. She rains goodies down on Pug Man: raspberry drops, cake, the friendship of a kitten or a piglet. “Castle, car, swimming pool, / You’ve got three wishes—that’s the rule.” (The fairy speaks in couplets. Pug Man doesn’t speak. He projects.) Pug Man takes the offer. He wishes for breakfast. He wishes for a dry newspaper. He wishes the fairy would turn into a silent piglet. Yes, Pug Man is a bit rough on the fairy, but they are his wishes, wishes that erase the granite grimace from his face. He even grins.
Wonderfully grouchy, with a touch of wickedness and a soupçon of warmth and color. (Picture book. 4-10)Pub Date: Nov. 1, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-7358-4261-8
Page Count: 48
Publisher: NorthSouth
Review Posted Online: July 25, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2016
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Broccoli: No way is James going to eat broccoli. “It’s disgusting,” says James. Well then, James, says his father, let’s consider the alternatives: some wormy dirt, perhaps, some stinky socks, some pre-chewed gum? James reconsiders the broccoli, but—milk? “Blech,” says James. Right, says his father, who needs strong bones? You’ll be great at hide-and-seek, though not so great at baseball and kickball and even tickling the dog’s belly. James takes a mouthful. So it goes through lumpy oatmeal, mushroom lasagna and slimy eggs, with James’ father parrying his son’s every picky thrust. And it is fun, because the father’s retorts are so outlandish: the lasagna-making troll in the basement who will be sent back to the rat circus, there to endure the rodent’s vicious bites; the uneaten oatmeal that will grow and grow and probably devour the dog that the boy won’t be able to tickle any longer since his bones are so rubbery. Schneider’s watercolors catch the mood of gentle ribbing, the looks of bewilderment and surrender and the deadpanned malarkey. It all makes James’ father’s last urging—“I was just going to say that you might like them if you tried them”—wholly fresh and unexpected advice. (Early reader. 5-9)
Pub Date: May 1, 2011
ISBN: 978-0-547-14956-1
Page Count: 48
Publisher: Clarion Books
Review Posted Online: April 4, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2011
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Visually accomplished but marred by stereotypical cultural depictions.
Ellis, known for her illustrations for Colin Meloy’s Wildwood series, here riffs on the concept of “home.”
Shifting among homes mundane and speculative, contemporary and not, Ellis begins and ends with views of her own home and a peek into her studio. She highlights palaces and mansions, but she also takes readers to animal homes and a certain famously folkloric shoe (whose iconic Old Woman manages a passel of multiethnic kids absorbed in daring games). One spread showcases “some folks” who “live on the road”; a band unloads its tour bus in front of a theater marquee. Ellis’ compelling ink and gouache paintings, in a palette of blue-grays, sepia and brick red, depict scenes ranging from mythical, underwater Atlantis to a distant moonscape. Another spread, depicting a garden and large building under connected, transparent domes, invites readers to wonder: “Who in the world lives here? / And why?” (Earth is seen as a distant blue marble.) Some of Ellis’ chosen depictions, oddly juxtaposed and stripped of any historical or cultural context due to the stylized design and spare text, become stereotypical. “Some homes are boats. / Some homes are wigwams.” A sailing ship’s crew seems poised to land near a trio of men clad in breechcloths—otherwise unidentified and unremarked upon.
Visually accomplished but marred by stereotypical cultural depictions. (Picture book. 4-8)Pub Date: Feb. 24, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-7636-6529-6
Page Count: 40
Publisher: Candlewick
Review Posted Online: Nov. 17, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2014
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