21. It's a Book

So many things about this book make me laugh. (I love how the monkey's head creates one of the o's in the title.) It's a conversation between a monkey and a jackass. Sitting in armchairs, the jackass with his laptop and the monkey with his book, they represent the conflict between old and new forms of entertainment. Jackass cannot understand the appeal of this book thing...it doesn't have wi-fi, make noise, text, or tweet. What use could it have?


It's not until Monkey opens up a page of his book that Jackass becomes interested (though he hilariously turns the story into a three-line text message). Now, all of a sudden, he is drawn into the power of the books. Hours pass by and he is captivated-- he won't even give the book back, but promises to charge it.

And, of course, the reader learns that for all their gadgets and gizmos, technology just can't compare to the wonder found in a well-written book. The story is told without narration (except for the brilliant double page spread of the pages of the pirate book), going back and forth with Jackass and Monkey's dialogue. Each single page illustration shows us something new about their conversation. (We turn the page to see what Jackass will ask about next.) To keep the two characters' dialogue from being confusing, each character's words have their own font style and color.

Smith uses a muted palette with lots of browns, grays, and pale primary colors. Even the backgrounds of the pages shift slightly from one muted color to next. In fact the only consistent colors are those of the main characters and their armchairs. He can express so much emotion in his cartoon-like characters, with the raise of an eyebrow or the droop of an ear. There are very few backgrounds, just the animals in their chairs. (This leads to the deadpan feel of the humor.) But that's the point...having elaborate pictures with rich backgrounds would overwhelm the story. The illustrations were first done in brush and ink, then textures were added using oil paint. Finally, they were sprayed with an acrylic spray to give the mottled look that is evident in the book.


Lane Smith's It's a Book (2010) has an elegant simplicity that teaches us that though books may not be as 'fancy' as technology...they're still awesome. Though I don't see books going away anytime soon, I still think we need this reminder every once in a while.

One word of note: at the very end of the book, there is a naughty punch line. Some parents/teachers might find it inappropriate for kids; others might see no harm in it. You can leave it out and it won't change the meaning, if it bothers you. I plan on reading it to my 4th graders. They will giggle at every page, just like I did.

Book #21.

20. Dear Primo: A Letter to my Cousin

I picked this one up because I was looking at the list of Pura Belpré winners and honorees from the past few years. (That's the award for a book written each year by a Latino author that best portrays the Latino experience.) This one was an honor book from 2011. What's so cool about the award is that this author is relatively young and this is his first children's book. Pretty cool honor.

I usually don't talk much about the background of the author, but in this case I think the information is important. Duncan Tonatiuh is truly bicultural-- his mother is Mexican, his father is American, he grew up as a child in Mexico, then spent his teenage and adult life in New York. He was constantly going back and forth between the two countries to visit. In his author's note in the end, he mentions how he was struck to see people who looked the same in both places, but who had such different cultures. He wanted to write a book that showed even for all of our differences, 'at the end of the day, we are more similar than different. People are people.'

Now, I get a little angry when I feel like people are being color-blind and that there are no differences between people and let's hold hands. But that's not what this book is saying at all-- Tonatiuh shows his love for the uniqueness of both cultures, embracing the differences without judging them. He is saying that we can do our own things but still respect one another because in the end, we all want and need basically the same things. That is a message I want to teach to my students as well as my own children some day, and this book is a great way to do just that.

Charlie and Carlos are cousins, one in Mexico and the other in the US. (This sounds so familiar to many of my students' situations.) They've never met but they write letters back and forth to each other, telling one another about the things they do, eat, see in their countries. (It kind of reminds me of the country mouse, city mouse story because in the end they want the other to come visit.)

 The structure is a split narrative where we go back and forth from one character's story to the other. Sometimes we get a full page spread of Carlos then another of Charlie, sometimes the verso is Carlos and the recto is Charlie, and occasionally they are split horizontally across the gutter. So that we are not confused, Tonatiuh makes each cousin write in a different font. Of course the feel of each cousin's scene is different too, one looking more traditionally rural Mexican and the other looking urban Mexican-American. Also, as an added element, Carlos' side is peppered with Spanish. What's cool is that the Spanish words are also included in the page next to the picture of the object it refers to (like a picture dictionary) as well as in a glossary in the end. This makes the books accessible to any child and can teach them some Spanish in the meantime. There is even some cool imagery sprinkled in the notes. ('Skyscrapers are so tall they tickle the clouds.')

Tonatiuh hand draws the characters and scenes, then digitally colors them in and adds collage. I particularly loved the realia he used in the collage that added some texture (like jeans material, a rug, corn kernels, marbles, etc.) There were some other cute details, like the wraparound cover featuring a piece of notebook paper in the background (representing the letters). The colors were vibrant and reminiscent of Mexican homes and markets, though each cousin had his own scenes, they were always bright and full of life. His illustrations of the characters were reminiscent of an ancient Mexican (Mixtec) folk style, where the characters were all the same rounded shape and always in profile. Thus, the book combines the ancient and modern, keeping the artistic traditions of Mexico alive, but at the same time making it accessible for today's kids. 

This culturally relevant text should be on every teacher's bookshelf, no matter what color your students are.

19. Cherish Today: A Celebration of Life's Moments

I'm sure you're all familiar with this Dr. Seuss classic. I read it every year on the last day of school to my students. I still use the copy that I received as a gift when I graduated from high school. Even with all of Dr. Seuss' crazy scenarios and invented words, kids still understand the message. It is about the future...to expect difficult times and failure, but to in the end know who you are and how wonderful you are and that you will succeed.

But that's not the book I am reviewing...I am reviewing Cherish Today written and illustrated by the husband and wife team of Kristina Evans and Bryan Collier (remember him?). 

 

This book is also about the journey toward the future, but instead of focusing on where you end up going, it is more about the getting there. The book urges you to cherish the moment you are in and the road you are traveling. Though the book features an African-American girl and her journey, this book is for anyone as they are about to make their way through life.

The text is written in a style similar to Dr. Seuss, with a rhythmic, poetic quality. 

"You've accomplished your goals

And you're well on your way.

The future's tomorrow-

Cherish today!"

Evans' story is not of a chronological tale of a girl growing up (in fact, she doesn't age at all). Instead it is the advice that a loved one gives about the road ahead of her. There will times when things are hard and you aren't always the best, but the love and support of your friends and family will always be behind you. This book is like an updated, more realistic version of Dr. Seuss' classic. I could see giving it to any child/graduate about to go off on a new adventure. It is a sweet book full of love and caring.

Collier's signature watercolor and collage style adds to the thoughtful words. The muted palette of browns, greens, and blues ground the story in reality. Even the yellows are not too vibrant-- Collier wants to portray the landscapes and scenes with a sense of realism and give it sincerity and feeling. He continues to put balloons as a motif throughout the book, sometimes acting as a guide for the girl, sometimes representing the paths that each person chooses to take as they are 'set free'. 

The title page, endpapers and publishing pages feature a theme of blue and skies, often representative of freedom. As you go through the double page bleeds, you notice that Collier has an attention to detail in order to make the book as realistic as possible-- he even includes a clip chart in the classroom scene! The collage is so well positioned that it melds together and creates a unified scene on every page. We follow the girl along on her journey, each page turn showing us where she is headed next. His play with light and shadow help create the mood of the story, not excited, not sad, but contemplative. The only surrealism he allows to creep in is on the page where the advice tells the girl to think of those who came before her -- Collier paints some faces into the tree trunks, signifying those important people.

I probably would have never heard of this book if I hadn't studies Bryan Collier. I loved it and will gladly substitute it in for Oh, the Places You'll Go! on the last day of school. Everyone needs to be reminded that life can be hard, but in the end cherish today...even I need that reminder sometimes.

A beautiful scene from my trip to Smith Rocks. We followed this path each day. Book #19 will follow its own path.

18. Book Fiesta!

When I began teaching, I remember one of my students telling me, "Oh, Ms. Murdock, today I'm going to get a present because it's El día de los niños." The first thing I thought (sarcastically) was, 'Wait, isn't every day Children's Day.' So I went home and looked it up. In Mexico, every year on April 30, they celebrate El día del los niños/ Children's Day. When famed bilingual author Pat Mora heard of this, she decided to add on El día de los libros/ Book Day to April 30 as well. So now, for 15 years, libraries across the country celebrate children and books on this day. And that is what Book Fiesta (2008), written by Pat Mora herself, is all about.

The wraparound cover is a joyful scene of children happily reading their books, with animals, friends, and a curious sun in tow. I picked up this book originally because the vibrant colors reminded me of the houses I so love in Mexico. Both of the endpapers are gorgeous images of children on Book Day...the first is the sun rising and waking the children up who have their books ready; the final one is children reading on puffy clouds as the moon gets them ready to sleep.  

Once you open to the half title page, you realize that Mora and López have crafted the entire book to follow the children on their special day. After they wake up on the endpaper, the story continues with them bringing decorations, balloons, and signs to the fiesta. You even see the children 'writing' the publisher information and carrying in the letters for the title on a hot-air balloon. The actual title page shows the children painting the letters, hanging the exclamation point, etc. I thought it was an adorable way to set the scene for the upcoming fiesta even before Mora's text had begun. Speaking of the text, it is written in both English and Spanish on each page. It is always nestled into the illustrations, so it sometimes curves around or changes colors depending on the background color of the scene.


The visual elements are a celebration of children and reading. Each page turn brings a new double page bleed of one energetic, upbeat, joyful scene after another. Each cartoon-like image is a fiesta rich in every color imaginable. Rafael López' palette is full of oranges, reds, blues, purples, greens, pinks...you name it! The vibrant scenes immerse you in the celebration and take you away on all of their adventures. The bold acrylic paintings show children reading everywhere!  The fantastical elements of reading on an elephant's trunk or in a whale's mouth add to the imagination of the book.Even the children represented are colorful-- kids of all colors and shades can see themselves in this book. My favorite page is one where you actually have to turn the book lengthwise to see the little boy in his bed, with the moon looking over him, as he reads himself to sleep.

I believe that this book would be an excellent read aloud any day of the year (but especially on April 30). It will inspire children to pick up a book and see where their imagination takes them. When so many digital technologies tell us what to think, books allow us to make up our own images and immerse ourselves in new lands. At the end of the book, Mora explains the origin of this celebration day and also provides some suggestions for activities you can do on April 30. ¡No puedo esperar para celebrar!

17. ish

Here is a preview, a la Weston Woods.

Ramon loves to draw-- anything, anytime, anywhere. Unfortunately, one day his big brother makes fun of his drawing, causing Ramon to crumple up all of his future efforts. He is unaware, though, that as he is discounting his drawings, his sister is secretly picking them up and treasuring them in her room. She declares his style 'ish' art (i.e. tree-ish, vase-ish, house-ish) and reminds him that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. (Heck, most modern art is even less 'ish' than 'ish' and it is still considered fine art!) Ramon is reinspired and begins to take pride in his drawings again.

A sequel to Peter H. Reynolds' The Dot, ish (2004) is a great book for anyone who has ever felt like their art wasn't good enough. If you do any research on Reynolds, you will find that he is inspired by children as well as motivated to inspire them. He travels to different schools, encouraging young artists and reminding them to not lose their creative side, relaxing about feeling the need to be perfect. This book sends that message across in a simple, poignant manner.


Reynolds' wraparound cover shows us a boy who is free with his art and feels confident in his abilities, his brush carrying the picture from the back cover to the front. The endpages and title page ironically have more bold color in them than the rest of the book, perhaps illustrating the growth of this young artist's confidence. The final publishing page includes a dedication to Reynolds' art teacher who 'dared me to draw for myself and find my voice'. Reynolds pays it forward with this book, encouraging his readers to find their voices.

When I flipped through the pages of the book at first, Reynolds' style looked familiar to me. Upon further investigation, I found out that his art is all over my classroom and I never knew it! He has illustrated all of the Judy Moody collection, as well as the most recent versions of Judy Blume's Fudge books. Reynolds used watercolor, ink, and tea to create this book, with dark outlines surrounding each figure which is then shaded in with a pale, limited range of colors (mostly yellows, oranges, greens, and blues). There is a lot of white space bordering the cartoon-style (almost naive) vignettes and color does not dominate any page. It is mostly his unconventional lines that stand out, outlining the characters and objects in unique ways. The fact that they are squiggly and imperfect exemplify Reynolds' message that art does not have to be flawless-- its quirks give it character. The emotion and warmth come through even with the simplest of illustrations. Even Reynolds' text is hand-lettered, adding to the simplicity of the book. It's small size makes it feel like it is meant to be shared in an intimate way, telling that little person 'Come sit right here next to me and I'll tell you a story.' Good things come in small packages.


I tend to discount my artistic abilities in front of my students, which I now realize might plant a seed of doubt in them, causing them to question their art. I don't want to do that anymore and will make an effort to be brave in sharing my work (and showing pride in it, too). I want to share this sweet, simple, yet powerful book with my students to remind them that there is no 'right' or 'perfect' in art...it's more important that it means something to you (even 'ish' is great!). It will inspire all who read it to look at the world in a new way.

Here is an animation by the author/illustrator of book #17, reminding us to not forgot our inner children. It's pretty awesome.

16. Interrupting Chicken

Ah...the bedtime story. Many of us have fond memories of many a night trying to prolong our day by asking for just one more story (or a glass of milk or a back rub...). While we partially just wanted to stay up later, we also loved the feeling of someone reading to us and giving us their undivided attention.

This book (2010) by David Ezra Stein focuses on a father chicken trying to put his daughter to sleep with a bedtime story. Unfortunately, the littlest chicken has the tendency to interrupt her father. As soon as the story begins, Chicken can't help but jump in (literally) and warn the characters of any impending doom coming toward them. Her spirited, caring personality won't let anything happen to her beloved characters. Unfortunately, this enthusiasm irritates Papa (understandably) and eventually he runs out of stories to tell. Ultimately, it is up to Chicken herself to share her own story...which is interrupted by her father's snores. As is all too common, Papa falls asleep before the little one. In the end, the pair falls asleep snuggled in the bed.

The cover of the book introduces us to our characters and sets up the premise that Chicken will be interrupting our story. On the title page, we get to see an image of the chickens' kitchen, complete with little Chicken's drawings on the refrigerator. This double page spread invites us into their home-- the staircase on the right tells us to come on upstairs and get ready to listen to the bedtime story. Most of the layout is single or double page bleeds, with the occasional circular frame surrounded by a white border thrown in (I love those circles because I feel like I am peering in through a window on this sweet relationship between father and daughter).


While this book has no deep messages, it's simple tale is quite inviting. You can't help but love Chicken and be drawn in by her vibrant personality. The love between the father and his daughter is strong and carries us through the pages, even as Chicken continues to interrupt. In fact, the way that Stein sets up the page turns builds the drama-- the reader can't wait to find out how Chicken will interrupt next.

Stein uses mixed media in this book-- watercolor, water-soluble crayon, china marker, pen, opaque white ink, and tea! All of these combined create vibrant scenes on each page. Thick outlines and rich shades of red, brown, and orange dominate the images of the Chickens' house, creating a warm, cozy atmosphere. The dark shades emphasize the fact that it is nighttime (and time for Chicken to go to bed!); the only light in the bedroom comes from the nightlight. The palette changes as Papa begins to read from the books-- the pages have sepia tones and are dominated by black ink rather than color. This makes it feel that the books are old and have been read and loved over and over by the family. 

Another great element of Interrupting Chicken's style is that when Chicken interrupts the stories, he actually enters the books. You can see the characters (like Hansel and Gretel or Little Red Riding Hood) react to his admonitions, as the forewarned characters exit the dangerous situation. These scenes are ones where the two design styles (of the chickens and the storybook characters) meld together, enhancing the fantasy element of the book. If only we could all jump into our books and yell at the characters, keeping them from making a big mistake.


Stein also incorporates the text into the varied style of the book. The text changes fonts in each distinct part of the book. When Papa and Chicken are talking, it is a modern-style font with a little flair to it. The storybook pages themselves look like a traditional, old-fashioned font, but when Chicken jumps in, his dialogue looks hand-lettered with china marker. This lettering is echoed again in the end when Chicken writes his own story. The overall style seems to be folk-art, reminiscent of fairy tales of the past.


This would make a cute bedtime story that kids would love to read over and over, laughing every time. (You could also use it in your class to teach kids not to interrupt :).) It's great for any interrupting chicken in your life.

Clue for book #16.

15. Voices in the Park

Anthony Browne's book written in 1998 is deceptively simple...and yet psychologically complex at the same time. Why did I compare it to "Shutter Island"? Well, don't worry about it being a thriller that is going to freak you out and give you nightmares...it is not. I made the comparison because both the book and the movie had me going back to certain parts, looking in detail at them again, wondering why the author/director put them in there.


Browne shows his true surrealist colors in this book. On every page you will find something that is not quite right...it could be subtle like the root of a tree turning into a foot or blatant like Mary Poppins flying around in the background. I have read this book 5 times and seen at least a few new elements each time. The best part about those hidden gems is that they keep you guessing. Why is "The Scream" on the newspaper? Why are there hats hidden everywhere? Like "Shutter Island", those clues actually have meaning to the story. Rather than a "Where's Waldo"- style hunt for objects, these shapes and figures tell you some of the backstory for what is going on in the character's thoughts and feelings. And the great part is that no one really knows the answer. Anthony Browne did not publish a guide to this book, explaining the significance of the surreal images; he wants us to think. He wants us to read it again and again, hypothesizing about the underlying meaning. And this is great to do with kids because they can have such amazing, creative thoughts. I am often astounded by the connections they are able to make and insight they draw from things that adults may glance over. So this book is really for them-- to stop on each page and take a deep look at what is happening. It might be hard to get those details as a read aloud, but it would be great for independent reading.


At the same time, the book is so layered that you can completely ignore the surrealist aspect and pay attention to the message of the story. Four gorillas go to the park, yet each one experiences that day differently. Browne makes the idea of perspective and point of view so beautifully illustrated with his varying fonts and visual styles. In the book, each character has a section to tell his/her story-- this section has its own unique typeset (font and size) that reflects the personality of the character. Also, the vibrancy of the colors changes depending on the mood of the character telling the story. Browne keeps the reader interested by providing a variety of page layouts, sometimes bordered and other times full bleeds. It is incredibly rich that you have to read it over and over to really get the full effect.


In the classroom, this book would be great for looking at multiple perspectives. You could even use it as a jumping off point to talk about time periods in history where understanding the varying perspectives is crucial. You could also have the students act out the varying 'voices' of the characters to understand what it feels like to step into someone else's shoes. This book could teach empathy that way-- helping children realize that not everyone views the same experience in the same way. Finally, the deeper issues of class differences and alienation come up, which could be talked about or overlooked, depending on the age. In the end, it is the friendship that provides hope for the future. What a great book!

This movie reminds me of book #15. I'll explain why soon.

14. Zen Ties

I read Zen Shorts to my kids this year and they loved it! This is a sequel by Jon J. Muth written and illustrated in 2008. One of the things that I love most about this book is that it has such strong messages without being too didactic. I also love that is encapsulates the idea of zen in such a way that children can relate to it.

From the very beginning, we are immersed in a world of calm and stillness. The cover shows us 2 pandas who seem to be in a state of meditation (confirmed by looking at them head-on on the back cover). Muth's watercolor evokes a sense of relaxation and connection to nature from the get go. Next, on the endpages, we see the pandas in various vignettes of tai chi movements, again invoking a feeling of calm. 


After watching a video by Muth, I learned that the title is actually a pun. In Japanese, 'zentai' means the whole or entire in all of us together. This gentle book exemplifies just that-- the characters are brought together by a sense of oneness. First we meet Stillwater the large panda who meets his nephew Koo for a visit. Then, three children join the community. Finally, the elderly neighbor Miss Whitaker is brought in as Stillwater enlists the kids' help to bring her some food. The children's judgments about her personality change as she helps the oldest boy prepare for a spelling bee. In a symbolic scene, after winning the spelling bee, all of the characters have some sort of red ribbon on...the 'zen tie' signifying their ultimate connectedness.


The only drawback to the text is that it is really best for older children. My 5th graders needed some help understanding the subtleties (about the culture and linguistic humor) found in the text. In this book, there is even a clever side story of Koo as he speaks only in haiku (get it). Thus, teachers of older children could use this book as a jumping off point to teach about Zen Buddhism, haiku poetry, Japanese culture, or even roots of words. The messages of the story are great for all children-- having compassion for others, the wisdom to not judge others, and the understanding that we are all connected. Younger children will delight in the illustrations, though.


Muth's book is gentle and full of delicate drawings that set the tone and mood of stillness in the story. The vignettes of varying activities between the characters provide a sense of movement, but it is more like the slow waves of the ocean than the speed of a jet plane. Muth's brush strokes create warm, lovable, textured characters and beautiful landscapes. His choice of a mostly cool palette (blues, greens, purples) continues with this theme. In fact, the style is almost impressionistic, with an emphasis on light, shadow, and emotion. You leave the book feeling like you just stepped out of a warm, relaxing bath and are wrapped up in a robe. On second thought, that sounds really nice right now...

 

Relaxed? Good! Get ready for book #14!

13. A Book

So, Moe's definition of a postmodern picturebook was a little off. Basically, a postmodern picturebook is one that recognizes it is a book. It might talk to the reader or break completely from the frame of a traditional book. It is metafictive-- aware of the fictional elements that make up a book (as it usually breaks those rules). In this story, Mordicai Gerstein did just that.

The wraparound cover of the book is ambiguous...the title is simple, yet mysterious as we see a little girl being chased by all sorts of animals/people and screaming out the name of the author! Why are they chasing her? We must open the book to find out.

What we find as we get to the first opening is a black double-page spread with some furniture lightly drawn in, so as to look like it is night. The words tell us what is going on-- this family lives in a book and when the book is closed, it is nighttime for them. (This reminded me of Chris Van Allsburg's Bad Day at Riverbend).

After the book opens up, we meet the family, getting ready for the day and eating breakfast together. Each member of the family has their own unique story except for the little girl. In fact, they all go off into their stories as the girl is left alone to wonder what her story is. Not to worry, she is quickly whisked away through various others stories by well-known characters who try to help her find her story. In the end, she realizes that she doesn't fit in any one of them, so she will write her own story. Her family is proud of her and the book closes to nighttime once again.

The message of the story is what I loved about it-- knowing that everyone has a voice to share and a story to tell. I can see using it to open up the idea of writing in my classroom, especially for those who are reluctant to feel that their stories are good enough to share. I could also see using it to explore genres of books; as the little girl passes through each type of story/genre, we could look at the elements of each genre. I even liked the idea of using this book to think about what makes a good story, especially after the book says, "Readers like a good story, else they close the book, you know."

I don't see children closing the book on this story because it is so creative. Gerstein allows the children to be able to enjoy it on many levels, from the sheer humor of the dialogue to the deeper messages of fitting in. He incorporates some unique elements that give the book personality. Most of the story is told through humorous dialogue bubbles (well, dialogue trapezoids, actually). This dialogue can be at any angle, sometimes requiring us to turn the book to read it. In addition, the reader sees the story through a unique, aerial perspective. Thus, we are constantly reminded that we are the readers looking in on the characters of this book. If that reminder weren't enough, Gerstein amplifies the postmodernism by having the girl look up at us in fright and asking us to 'turn out the light' in the end. All along the way, we keep turning the pages to find out what scene she is going to show up in next. Gerstein's acrylic, cartoon-like illustrations change in palette with each change in scene-- more vibrant for the fairy tales, more shadow for the detective stories. It's a fun story that you want to have in your hands to investigate all of the creative, hidden details.

Ready for a postmodern picturebook #13? Here's Moe to explain what that means...

12. How I Learned Geography

I must admit, in choosing this book I proverbially "judged a book by it's cover". I saw the intricate border and brightly colored 3-D landscape of a map (with a boy flying over it) and thought, "This book must be cool." It turns out that I was right.

A Caldecott Honor winner, this book was written in 2008 by Uri Shulevitz. In a nutshell, it details the autobiographical story of Shulevitz fleeing his native Poland at the age of 4 after the Warsaw blitz (during the beginning of WWII). He and his family then moved to (what is now) Turkestan, living a life of poverty. One day, Shulevitz's father goes to buy some bread, but comes back with a map. While initially angry, the young Uri eventually becomes fascinated by the map and through it learns to use his imagination to escape from the harsh world he lives in. Uri's father was wise to buy the map, for although it did not nourish their bodies as the bread would have, it nourished Uri's soul and provided 'food for the spirit'.

Part of the beauty of this book is that it is so simple-- the words are simple enough for a child to understand, yet the content and emotion in them is full of depth for older children, too. The words are rhythmic and almost poetic, evoking images without the need for pictures. Yet the illustrations bring a whole other level of mastery to the book.

Shulevitz uses watercolor and ink (with some aspects of collage) to create his moving illustrations. The first opening fills us with a sense of fear and urgency as the blood red of the picture (and the word 'war') shows us the destruction of his native Poland. With the turn of the page, we have journeyed to the sand-colored homes of Turkestan where the muted colors show us what life was like in those times. Shulevitz's almost monochromatic palette depicting his home emphasize his feelings at those times. The styles seems to be a mixture of folk-art and impressionism. With the arrival of the map, though, the reader gets a new palette of colors and lines. Rather than the sandy colors and desert scenes, we are transported to a bolder blue of the ocean, sharp, white mountains, textured and lushly carved temples, as well as forests and cities. 

The small frames that enclosed Uri and his family in the first few pages grow to double page spreads as Uri flies over the world, "far from...hunger and misery". Shulevitz maintains deep ink outlines around his figures that give them form and shape. The image of Uri flying past the landscapes give the reader a sense of motion to turn the page.

While this book could be used to share with younger children the power of the imagination and the idea of a fantastical journey, the author's note reminds us that this is the real story of a man's traumatic childhood. Thus, older children can learn from this story about the effects of war and the power of hope in difficult times. Even the title, "How I Learned Geography" can be picked apart by teenagers in a discussion of people's ignorance of the rest of the world until they are forced to learn about it in times of war. Whatever the purpose for reading it, this book is powerful and should remind us of the whole wide world of human experience that is out there.

P.S. This is Uri's drawing of the marketplace in Turkestan when he was 13 years old.

 When I was a kid, I learned geography from the Animaniacs.

We'll find out how Uri Shulevitz learned geography in book #12.

11. Dave the Potter

I found this book after beginning an illustrator study on the incredibly talented Bryan Collier (I will be reviewing a few more of his books later on in the blog). It was written by Laban Carrick Hill in 2010 and won the Caldecott Honor Award and the Coretta Scott King award. 

The book tells the story of a slave who lived in South Carolina and was trained in the art of pottery making. He was skilled and educated (against the law, he was taught to read and write), which led him to inscribe poetry into each of his creations.


While the text is largely a sequence of Dave's pottery making process, it is full of beautiful imagery and language. Hill stresses the action in his words (mixing, throwing, kicking, pinching, squeezing, etc), connecting us to the character and his creations. The simple lines remind the reader of Dave's poems...short, but full of power and meaning. The verse is almost rhythmic. It was Hill's figurative language that pulled me in the most.

"With a flat wooden paddle

large enough to row 

across the Atlantic,

Dave mixed clay with water..."

"Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat,

Dave's hands, buried

in the mounded mud

pulled out the shape of a jar."

Collier's illustrations are a complement to Hill's words. They use a mixture of watercolor and collage. The palette of earthtone colors emphasizes Dave's connection to the land and clay. Collier positions Dave in powerful images-- the strength of his hands, the determination in his face, the pride in his eyes. Collier also takes us around his workshop, detailing the materials he used and the step-by-step process he took to make the pottery. He keeps the story moving along with a variety of full page spreads (that slightly cross the gutter and end in a jagged outline). In addition, there is a fold-out page in the middle of the book that includes 4 gorgeous panels of Dave working the clay. Collier captures the light and shadows of Dave in his workshop and makes the texture so realistic that we feel like we could reach out and mold the clay as well. Collier also has unique borders on each page that look like he ripped a strip of paper containing the words and laid it over the landscape of the pictures. It is an intimate, realistic glimpse into the life of a talented man who maintained hope and beauty in the midst of oppression.


The end of the book reminds us that this incredible story is actually an informational text about a real man-- it includes a photograph of his pottery, some biographical information, a few of his poems, and a bibliography of where to find more information about Dave. In the classroom, you could use the book in a study of important African American figures, slavery and resistance to oppression, art, etc. It teaches the values of perseverance and dignity in the face of injustice. The book rarely dwells on the fact that he was a slave, though, because he was much more than that...in fact the title reminds he was an artist, then a poet, and lastly a slave. After reading the book, children will probably become fascinated by the idea of pottery-making-- a great jumping off point for an art activity. Finally, this book would be great for studying imagery and figurative language.

A little history lesson and a preview for book #11.

10. Flotsam

I must admit that before this class I had seen wordless picture books, but always discounted them. Don't get me wrong, I thought they were beautiful, but I mistakingly thought that they were for non-readers. If my students ever picked one up at the library, I thought they were trying to get out of reading and promptly sent them back to grab a new one. Now I feel silly.

Wordless picture books offer numerous opportunities for children to practice visual literacy (a very important skill in this day and age) and begin to piece together and tell stories based on the illustrations. They have to incorporate critical thinking and inferring skills, since there are no words to rely on. Flotsam (2006), by David Wiesner, gives such a compelling tale that from page to page that I was drawn to find out what happened next.

Wiesner's illustrations are breathtaking. His watercolor paintings are incredibly realistic (even though there are also some surreal, fantasty-like elements in the book). The wraparound cover shows us a boldly-colored fish who has the gleam of a camera in his eye...foreshadowing of what is to come. The endpages are a sandy color that perfectly blend into the upcoming beach scene. Even the title page tells us about the little boy's treasures he has accumulated on his beach adventures. So, by the time we get to the first opening, the scene is set.

This is one book where I do not want to give away the story-- it is so intriguing and unique that I want the reader to be surprised by what happens. I will just say that the boy in the book is collecting flotsam (anything floating that washes ashore) from the beach when he makes an incredible discovery that shows him some magical possibilities he had never dreamed of. 

The artistry of the book is incredibly detailed. Wiesner creates double page spreads that bleed to the end of the page, thus immersing you in the world of the book. The scenes of the boy are so realistic that they anchor the elements of fantasy later on, so much so that it feels like maybe they really do happen. Wiesner knows how to ride the fine line of believable versus unbelievable magical realism. At times, when Wiesner wants to move the story forward more quickly he uses boxes or panels that show the passage of time and build up the drama of what will happen next. He also zooms us in and out of perspective (sometimes we are right next to the boy's eye and other times we are looking from afar). With each page turn, we follow along with the boy and his newfound discoveries. Wiesner's muted, warm palette portrays a sunny day at the beach. This color scheme shifts a bit when we get to the bold hues of the underwater scenes. 


As far as the story is concerned, it is so creative that it will fill any child with wonder and curiosity. When we feel that we have discovered everything in the world, Wiesner reminds children that things may not always be as they seem. He is a master of awakening the imagination in his visual adventures. You could use this book as a mentor text for writing fantasy stories, as a way to practice inferring, in a text set of wordless books, or just for plain fun and excitement. The greatest part is that children can create their own story to go along with it since they are not limited by the words written by the author. I am in love with Wiesner's work-- he is meticulous down to the last detail and immerses you in his world.

A wordless picture book! Here's a preview of #10.

9. Me and You

We've all heard the story of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" right? The mischievous little girl who messes with the bear's things...the angry bears who chase her out. Well, as happens to all beloved fairy tales, this one has been re-worked and fractured over the years. My newest experience with a spin on the Goldilocks tale is Anthony Browne's Me and You (2009). You know it is going to be different from the get go...Browne dedicates this book "for all the underdogs". But who is the underdog in this tale? You must read to find out...


The book is practically wordless-- pages and pages go by where the only thing you have to rely on are Browne's incredibly detailed and heartfelt illustrations. The words that do appear are essentially the same as in any Goldilocks story (the porridge, the chairs, the beds), except this time we hear everything from Baby Bear's perspective. Which brings me to the unique aspect of this retelling. Brown chooses to write and illustrate a split narrative, with Goldilocks' experience on the verso and Baby Bear (with his mom and dad) on the recto. The little girl's illustrations are always cast in a dark, gray, dull palette, showing us her gritty reality and filling us with sympathy for her life. She lives in a bleak urban setting. Her story is told in vignettes (3-6 on each page), which help the reader move quickly through her life, understanding that she is not the same girl we are used to reading about. Though she is with her mother, she is often turned away and seems to be longing for something. Then, while following a balloon, she gets lost. And that's how she ends up at the bear's house.

Browne's attention to realistic detail shows you the graffiti on the walls, the anguish on her face when she is separated from her mother, the comfort she feels in the Bear's house. We are drawn to Goldilocks' story because Browne creates her with such drama and sympathy. The only color that appears in her life (besides her own golden locks) is when she is drawn into the warm yellow of the bear's house. There she is no longer downcast and experiences a world different from her own. Thus, we don't blame Goldilocks for going into their house...she is not the brat we are used to reading about.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the book, the three bears are colorful (pastel tones), happy, and a family unit. We immediately know that the bears are much better off economically-- they live in a huge house and have plenty of food and furniture. In fact, they are so wrapped up in their world that the parents often have their noses in the air while Baby Bear ' messes around. They are carefree and ignorant of the bleak reality that Goldilocks faces not so far away. (In fact, on the wraparound cover you can see the happy bears in front with a dark Goldilocks, lost and forgotten in the background). 

Browne's style and choice of media even further the distinction between the stories-- the subtle, subdued tones of Goldilocks almost appear photographic, while the bears seem to be shaded with colored pencils and appear slightly cartoonlike (with some realism as well).

Browne takes a traditional fairy tale and fills it with an emotion I have never felt in other versions. It is a social commentary on the haves and have-nots, on the social classes that can live right next to each other, but not even be aware of each other's existence. It can teach children to think about how you treat others and try to understand where people come from (before immediately judging them). It is in this version that we get a motive for Goldilock's actions-- perhaps she wasn't so bad after all. Even Baby Bear himself worries about her in the end (after she runs away).

In the classroom, you could use this book in a text set about fractured fairy tales or even in a unit on social justice. I found myself affected by its message and want to add it to my collection.

Anybody remember this one...?

For a new twist on the Goldilocks tale, check out book #9 coming soon!

8. Do Unto Otters: A Book About Manners

Remember how I mentioned in my last post that Laurie Keller is punny...well, she's done it again. When my class Skyped with her last week, she told us that she had wanted to write a book about manners for years, but couldn't think of how to make it engaging. All of a sudden, the phrase "Do unto 'otters' "(instead of 'others', for the not so pun inclined) popped into her head. And so her silly book about manners began. Here's a quick clip from Weston Woods...

The premise this time is that Mr. Rabbit gets some new neighbors, the Otters. While they seem nice enough, he is worried about whether or not they will get along. He realizes (with help from an owl friend) that he should remember the golden rule: "Do unto otters what you would have otters do unto you." But how would Mr. Rabbit like the otters to treat him? Keller spends the rest of the book exploring all of the kind ways to treat one another.

As with Artie the Doughnut (though not quite as busy on each page), Keller's humorous characters inhabit every corner in small vignettes, this time illustrating examples of good manners. The cheerful palette of greens, blues, and yellows create an outdoor setting where talking rabbits, owls, and otters live. Her whimsical illustrations are made with acrylic paint. (I especially like when you can see the brushstrokes in her backgrounds-- it gives the page such great texture.) And her cartoon-style characters so easily express their emotion with the raise of an eyebrow. Though there are hidden gems on each page that necessitate a few rereadings, it is never too much. I could see kids wanting this in their hands to explore the nooks and crannies of each page. In fact, it wasn't until my third time reading it that I noticed some hilarity on the publishing page-- she even stuck with her theme of manners there.

"No teasing took place during the making of this book...There was an uncomfortable hair-pulling incident that took place toward the end of this project, but everyone involved promptly APOLOGIZED and have since FORGIVEN each other."

Do Unto Otters (2007) is very simple. In a nutshell, it is a funny way of explaining the golden rule to children...the great thing about the book is that it never gets preachy. Though didactic, it feels fresh on every page. That is because Keller is a master at the creative layout. Her text blocking on each page always keeps you guessing-- the typeface, size and color changing to evoke expression. In addition, the switch from frames to vignettes to full page spreads makes the reader want to turn the page...I especially loved the added bonus that you can learn how to say some words in 5 languages (Pig Latin included).


I will definitely use this book at the beginning of the school year with my kiddos. Though I like for us to come up with our classroom expectations together, this book could either be a jumping off point for some brainstormin or a wrap-up to see the rules in action. Either way, I know my students will love it...and it will subtly and humorously reinforce the values I want to make sure stay in my classroom (play nice, be respectful, etc.) After all, who can disagree with the golden rule?

Book #8 coming soon...

I can now draw an animal that does not look like a cat. Thanks, Laurie Keller!

7. Henry and the Kite Dragon

From the moment I saw the cover of the book and peeked inside at the illustrations, I was drawn in. William Low creates an incredibly realistic world full of rich, detailed, and dramatic paintings. His illustrations look like acrylic paintings on canvas, so intricate that you want to reach out and touch the textured pages. [Upon further research, I found out that he does all of his work digitally, using a stylus and pressure-sensitive screen.]


Starting from the cover (a wraparound, bird's-eye view), I felt immersed in Chinatown, with the hustle and bustle of the streets to the quiet of Mr. Chin's apartment. Low is a master at using light to express emotion-- you can feel the excitement of a new day beginning and the creation of a new kite in the blue sky...and the ominous clouds of an impending confrontation. His realistic artwork reminds me of a cinematographer in film-making-- rather than give us the same perspective on each page, he takes us from down in the streets to the top of a building looking down to a close inspection of the kites being created. I felt like I was whisked from one place to the next which heightened my emotional investment in the story. The bright, vibrant colors of the kites contrast with the muted colors of the town and characters. These colors conveyed the feeling of hope in the midst of tension. Most of the book was filled with double-page bleeds (enhancing the reader's immersion in the setting and story), but there were a few times that Low chose to use white space in the background. It was these times when he wanted the reader's eye to be on the foreground.


Henry and his friends love making and flying kites with Grandfather Chu, but time after time the Italian boys in the neighboring park destroy the kites. Full of anger, Henry and the gang confront Tony and his gang, only to find out the reasoning behind their destructive acts. Bruce Edward Hall does a great job of writing the story from the perspective of a young boy...filled with speech patterns and realistic thoughts and emotions. In the end, the children learn messages of open-mindedness and compromise. The story could be incorporated into a unit on bullying or social justice. It could also be used to explore multicultural texts and portrayal of other cultures (while of course being careful to highlight the fact that not all Chinese or Italian people are like this). 

Because this story has such a realistic feel to it from the get go, its ending (though slightly predictable) has a sense of freshness. The bully is revealed to be human and both sides work out a respectful solution. I am always in favor of a book that teaches children to stop and listen before judging others...especially when it is accompanied by such gorgeous illustrations!

6. Arnie the Doughnut

I've read picture books with cats, dogs, birds, mice, trains, and cars that all talk (among other things)...but never a doughnut. Laurie Keller definitely created a unique character in Arnie the Doughnut (2003).


One thing you need to know about Keller is that she is creative, zany, and a little bit punny (small giggle). Of course, that is immediately apparent as soon as you open any of her books. In Arnie, every page (even the title page, copyright page, and cover) is in on the act. The characters (both main and sideline) appear everywhere...I mean absolutely everywhere...and her humor bursts from every scene. 

The illustrations are eye-catching and cover the entire book. You could spend hours (I'm not kidding) with your eye jumping from corner to corner, trying to catch all of the jokes, dialogue, and scenes she crams in. This style might not be for everyone...I know some people found it a little too busy for their tastes...but I quite enjoyed it. Keller uses acrylic paints and collage to create a feel of a textured and multi-dimensional world of doughnuts. (Some parts of the background are even cut-outs from maps or newspapers.) Her cartoonish (almost naive art) style keeps you jumping from vignette to vignette of minor characters (a cruller who speaks French and a jelly doughnut who has to make sure his brains are not coming out, among others) that inhabit Arnie's world. She creates emotion and action in her lines (often represented by falling sprinkles or Arnie's expressive eyes) that move the story forward. Her use of bold colors that fill every inch of the page creates vibrant scenes throughout.

The text is just as playful as the illustrations, with words curving this way and that...you have to turn the book to read some of them! This makes the story so interactive and fun...in a time where kids feel they need buttons and screens to interact with, Keller proves that books can do the same thing (even better, in my opinion). The text and pictures work in harmony, where your eye goes from one to the next, always learning something new.

As far as the story is concerned, it is along the same vein as The Gingerbread Man, where runaway food is the focus. It is a fantasy story where Arnie "grows up" in a doughnut factory/shop and can't wait until he is chosen. Sadly, he is unaware that being chosen means eventually being eaten. My favorite scene is where he stops himself from going into Mr. Bing's mouth and yells "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" From this moment on, Arnie tries to change his fate, and ultimately succeeds (though you must read the book to find out the silly way that Keller solves his dilemma).


I was incredibly entertained by this story, even though there was not necessarily a deep message to it. (I suppose you could say fighting for your rights or standing up for yourself.) It was simply a fun book, with quirky twists, turns, and asides along the way that keep you laughing. I could see students inspired by the full-of-life Arnie and ready to create their own stories...if a book can get kids to love to read and inspired to write, that's reason enough to add it to your collection!

As a final note, I have a tendency to feel a bond with anthropomorphized characters and see them in a different light. (After Wall-E, I felt really bad going after any cockroaches.) Thus, after reading Arnie the Doughnut I swore I would never eat one again...until my professor's themed snack for the day included...you guessed it...Arnie. Did I stand up for doughnut rights and say "no!" to the cruel mistreatment of doughnuts. No, I ate him, but at least I felt a little bit sorry...that counts, right?

Here's Arnie. He's a doughnut. Do-nut eat him. He is the main character in my next book.

Pretty good illustration, huh? Artist and author Laurie Keller showed me how...

Oh, and here's a short clip of Arnie's story...

5. Lucha Libre: The Man in the Silver Mask (A Bilingual Cuento)

At first, I felt a little hypocritical putting this book on my blog. I hate violence and think wrestling is more than a bit silly. I have had to realize over time, though, that for many Mexican and Mexican-American children lucha libre is an integral part of their culture growing up. Though it may look ridiculous to me to watch grown men running around in masks and tights pants, it is not my place to judge. For many, the luchadores are folk heroes and symbols of justice for the common men. (Think "Nacho Libre".)

In Lucha Libre (2005), Xavier Garza's art and storytelling work together to illuminate some of his experiences growing up in a small border town in Texas. In this book, he pays tribute to the heroes of his youth, the luchadores who did battle against the bad guys...the men whose mystery and honor helped to create the 'poorman's theatre' in the ring.

What first struck me was the artistry of the book...it makes the characters come to life. From the endpages, cut-outs of luchadores in strong poses and battle stances prepare us for the epic battle that is about to take place in the book. The luchadores are dressed in dazzling costumes and move swiftly across the pages. Garza uses a bold palette with oranges, reds, greens, and blues that jump off of the page. His poster-style design includes eye-popping illustrations of mighty luchadores in double-page spreads that are larger-than life. His thick, bold lines and shapes create a sense of drama and action in the ring, as participants yell "Boo!" and fighters scream and charge toward each other. The folk art style and thick acrylic paintings give the reader a front-row seat to the show and with every turn of the page lead us along with the action. 

Though the illustrations could tell their own story, the text cannot be ignored. As one can tell from the title, the story is told in both English and Spanish...a reader could choose to read in one language, both, or (as I like to do) a mishmash of English some pages and Spanish other pages. Thus, this culturally relevant text is now available for a large population of students...perhaps some Americans like me who had never heard of lucha libre growing up can now gain an appreciation for its cultural roots and iconic status in the Mexican community. That is how we break down judgments and stereotypes...by understanding each other. (Garza includes a good endnote about lucha libre "A Brief but Tremendously Exciting History".)

Kids will also pick up on the drama-- you never quite know who the man in the silver mask is...but you have a pretty good idea. You feel the excitement as he smiles at Carlitos, inspiring his continued love of lucha libre. Use the book for cultural relevancy, use it because it is bilingual, use it for the vibrant illustrations, or for the exciting story. No matter how you use it, kids will love it!