Heartfelt but so oblique it’s unlikely to connect with many readers.
An artist’s visual interpretation of Sting’s song “King of Pain” was inspired by seeing his own son struggle through a difficult illness and find solace in its lyrics.
“That’s me / I am the king of pain” the boy, Malo, tells his father after hearing the song. Völker briefly recounts his son’s story in a prologue and accompanies both it and the song lyrics with minimalist, geometric forms intended to evoke the pain, worry, and sadness of a parent and child grappling with the child’s illness and painful treatment. Some comfort comes in naming the pain—“What does your pain feel like? Can you tell me?”—and the responses come in Sting’s lyrics with their own images of “a butterfly / trapped in a spider’s web” and “a skeleton / choking on a crust of bread” and, of course, “a little black spot / on the sun today.” The conclusion showing “the king of pain” looks like a joyful picture—does this mean that pain is conquered? Or that the king of pain is more powerful than the individual moments of suffering? It’s a bit hard to determine. The very personal story doesn’t quite end up supporting a visual narrative through combination of lyrics and art.
Heartfelt but so oblique it’s unlikely to connect with many readers. (Picture book. 7-10)Pub Date: Oct. 1, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-7358-4238-0
Page Count: 40
Publisher: NorthSouth
Review Posted Online: July 26, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2015
A wordy but useful introduction to a popular Washington museum that has an engaging heroine.
A young girl has fun exploring the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture in this illustrated children's book.
Simone is thrilled when her mother decides to take her to the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C, where she lives. Before they leave home, her mother asks if she remembers how to behave in a museum, and she answers quickly and correctly: “Stay near you at all times, lower my voice when speaking, greet the workers, and keep my hands to myself.” After taking a Metrobus to their destination, Simone marvels at the large size of the museum and learns that it celebrates “the resilience and strength of African Americans.” When her mother explains that “families were separated during slavery,” however, Simone misses her father and her brother, Scott, both of whom stayed home, so after she and her mother enjoy an outdoor lunch at a cafe, they join their male family members at Anacostia Park and talk about the day. At times, the book relies too much on telling instead of showing: It asserts, for example, that the museum honors the “resilience” of African Americans without showing an exhibit or giving examples that would have enabled its youthful readers to see what that word means (especially if they’re too young to know what “resilience” is). The text also needlessly mentions some details shown repeatedly via the illustrations (as when Simone speaks of “my red sneakers and leggings”). Still, Marie’s colorful illustrations are nicely detailed, enhancing the adventures of family members who have skin tones in varied shades of brown, and they depict not just the museum, but spots such as the National Mall and the Anacostia River. As for the museum itself, as Simone observes, it’s “huuuuugggggge!” This book, by the author of Geoengineering: Governance and Technology (2013), would no doubt make a first visit more enjoyable and less intimidating for many children.
A wordy but useful introduction to a popular Washington museum that has an engaging heroine.Pub Date: April 13, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-9995685-0-7
Page Count: 38
Publisher: Mayhew
Review Posted Online: April 14, 2020
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
BOOK REVIEW
Campers and cooks will enjoy this tasty tale.
A cooking implement forms a lasting friendship with a boy in this picture book.
Dutch isn’t a pot: He’s a cast-iron oven. Following Dutch’s life from when he was first “born” in 1865 through his travels across the prairie in a covered wagon and his arrival in a log cabin home, the story explores generations of a family. The advent of the electric oven leaves Dutch relegated to a barn. After years of languishing without cooking, Dutch is purchased at an estate sale and his new family introduces him to camping. He develops a special relationship with Tyler, one of the children. When Tyler leaves for college, Dutch is worried he’ll be left in the garage, but the teen returns to fetch his cooking companion. With notes reminiscent of Margery Williams’ classic The Velveteen Rabbit, Riddle’s story embraces not only the relationship between a child and a beloved object, but also the joy of cooking outdoors and sharing moments with family. Guess’ gentle ink and paint illustrations give more emotion and personality to Dutch than to the tale’s (mostly pale-skinned) humans, who never quite come to life. The author’s previous nonfiction titles, two volumes of The Keen Camper: Camping With Kids (2017; 2018), pair well with this entertaining fictional story about a piece of camping equipment. Recipes in the back encourage children and their parents to try outdoor cooking.
Campers and cooks will enjoy this tasty tale.Pub Date: Nov. 20, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-9988716-4-6
Page Count: 40
Publisher: Southeast Seven Publishing
Review Posted Online: April 13, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2020
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
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.
