Fancy Nancy: Bonjour Butterfly
by Jane O'Connor; illustrated by Robin Preiss Glasser
HarperCollins
Here I go again, reviewing a book that doesn't need my help here at Book Buds. But, I ... I ... I ... can't help myself. It's Fancy Nancy! I have the new Fancy Nancy and you don't. Neener neeners!
Oh, I'm going to be so popular at Seth's school. All the cool girls will love me and want to be my friend.
Okay, so the teachers will probably look at me peculiarly until my back is turned, when they'll be snatching this out of Seth's backpack and slipping it into their book nook. Hah! Let 'em try.
I never read the original, which is supposed to be superb, (a fancy word for good), but I do have Posh Puppy, which everyone says isn't quite as impressive. By everyone I mean all the little girls who love Fancy Nancy. Which, y'know, is everyone.
The series gives little girls a (usually) well-behaved, truly feminine girl who isn't a princess or a Barbie, doesn't need rescuing, isn't out to snare a prince and loooooves playing dress-up. In the series' third book, she and best, interracial friend Bree love butterflies and plan a butterfly birthday party for Bree. Alas, Nancy must attend her grandparents 50th wedding anniversary instead. Oh, the horror!
Take tantrums and sulking to an extreme and dress it up in taffeta, crinoline and dangly beads, with a glittery tiara seemingly floating in cotton candy tufts of red hair, and that's our ethereal--if temperamental--heroine.
Preiss Glasser's* Nancy is a dazzling confection of jelly-belly colors and dramatic gestures who gets it right in the end, and we forgive her when O'Connor gives her the right touch of humility.
She even gets her butterflies, which makes it way better than Posh Puppy, which has no butterflies at all.
Ooooh ... I can't wait to share this with the other girls.
Rating: *\*\*\
*Special bonus: Here's Preiss Glasser from the 2006 LA BookFest.
Purplicious
by Victoria Kann & Elizabeth Kann
HarperCollins
I don't normally review books that don't need my help. This book is everywhere. You can't escape it. No little girl can be without it these days. Even the boys have to read it to know what the girls are so obsessed about.
And that's the problem.
When a book about doing the unpopular thing becomes the popular thing, there's a certain cognitive dissonance going on. At least my head feels like it's exploding.
The character Pinkalicious returns from an eponymous prior book that I never read but which was turned into a Broadway play. It looks very much like a triumph of marketing over taste. (But then, what isn't? My kids have been subjecting me to Dora videos of late. Shudder.)
That isn't to say Purplicious doesn't deserve its popularity. Witty, tight writing keeps things moving, as does a strong conflict between mean popular girls (black is the new pink, dontcha know) and our fuchsia-obsessed heroine. It's perfectly pitched for girls instinctively ready to explore how soft power works--and wanting in, in a bad way.
Pinkalicious is inconsolable at the teasing, in pages full of mixed-media pink pastiches, until she makes a friend as obsessed with--you got it--a certain shade that results from mixing pink with blue.
Now, purple is my favorite color. Always has been. My parents hated purple and painted my childhood room a very '70s shade of orange, which scarred me for life, and which is why I approached this book with so much trepidation.
It's made purple the favorite color of every Purplicious-toting tot I see. Sure, I'm happy kids today get opportunities I never had to express their unique personalities in exactly the same way as everyone else.
Yesterday, my toddler picked out fuchsia pajama bottoms with snowmen to wear with a green onesy and blue-striped socks. My retinas are still searing. But she's in that phase where she has to decide everything herself.
I hope it lasts forever.
Rating: *\*\*\
Hug Time
by Patrick McDonnell
Little, Brown
My husband is a huge Mutts fan and wouldn't let me pan a book of McDonnell's even if he were capable of writing a bad one. Though this one leans a tad toward the pedestrian, if I can avoid getting shot at for saying so. Still, if I could say as much in so little space, I'd bottle his talent, sell stock in it, and retire to my own island.
So Hug Time doesn't rate with my all-time favorite of his, The Gift of Nothing, but it's a fine little book about dispensing full-frontal, no-holds-barred hugs. I don't know all the Mutts characters (being a relative newcomer to the McDonnell orbit), but a little kitty named Jules sets off on a round-the-world trip wearing a favorite sweater and carrying a hug-to-do list.
In rhyming quattrains, he meets up with a variety of animals, more than a few on the endangered list, and gives 'em a big ol' squeeze:
Exploring the rain forest by foot and canoe,
Jules discovered a species brand-new.
Kneeling, he whispered, "We welcome you."
Off to India--with its tigers so few,
Finding one is hard to do.
Okay, so there are better rhymers out there, and McDonnell isn't above some blatant sentimentality, especially considering his famed fondness for animals (he's on the board of directors of The Humane Society of the United States, among other accomplishments).
There's no real plot here--no conflict or mounting drama or discernible character arc. Still, 'tis the season for such things, and you could do worse than put a hug in someone's stocking.
Rating: *\*\
Okay, I've seen some cute book promotions, and many annoying ones. Fortunately, Jarrett J. Krosoczka , author of Punk Farm on Tour, made me laugh instead of cringe when he suggested his characters do a Q&A with various bloggers.
Bloggers at 7-Imp and Fuse #8 took the bait, and so did I, but on one condition: that my five-year-old son and his classmates do the asking.
I dropped off the galleys at school and his teachers read the book about five farm animals who form a punk rock band. They were kind enough to write down the questions, but asked that the children's anonymity be protected on the Internet (hence, no photos of the dears).
I then emailed Jarrett, who admits:
These are hysterical! What a cool twist! PF has faced many tough interviewers...but the Kindergartners from Chicago Jewish Day School? Yikes, they were tough ones... =)
If you like, here's my review as a refresher.
And now, a transcript from the toughest little interviewers in Chi-town (many thanks to teachers Alex and Jaimie):
CJDS: Pig -- Why would he do all the stuff, when he had to stop the people?"
PIG: Well, you know how it is. When you're a pig in a rock band, sometimes you need to just make things happen. The other band-mates got a little upset when they had to wait for me.
CJDS: Sheep -- Why do you make the animals go fast?
SHEEP: Oh yeah - uh...about that. Well, you see the thing is, we needed to get back to the farm and quickly! But speeding is wrong and I don't think it's a good idea...
CJDS: Pig -- How did you make the song?
PIG: I made the song by practicing playing my guitar every day. Practice makes perfect! So does confidence. And that's why I ROCK!
CJDS: Sheep -- Why did they start the show?
SHEEP: Well, the owl who was running the club needed us to start playing on time. A lot of animals bought tickets to see the show and they'd get upset if they were kept waiting.
CJDS: Cow -- Why did he say hold your horses?
COW: Well, I said "Hold your horses" because everyone was getting upset because we were lost. I saw the barn and knew that's where we had to go!
CJDS: Why couldn't they fix the car?
GOAT: Little dudes, I tried my best to fix the van. But it's an old van and we traveled very far. I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did!
CJDS: Pig -- Why did he say I don't want to get dirty, since pigs like getting dirty?
PIG: Well, I'm not like other pigs. I like to be clean and presentable. I also don't like manual labor. So fixing a tire just isn't my thing.
CJDS: Goat -- Why are you so cool and not the other animals?
GOAT: Well, well, well...looks like the jury is out. I'm the coolest one in the group!
PIG: Hey!
SHEEP: Now, is this a scientific poll?
CHICKEN: What about me?! I'm cool!!! And not one question for me?! (sniffle)
GOAT: See...I'm the coolest because I don't get upset. Sometimes life throws you curve balls and you just need to roll with it.
COW: Well, Goat is really cool. But look at my cowbell! Cowbells rock! That makes me cool. Doesn't it? Oh.....
Punk Farm on Tour
by Jarrett J. Krosoczka
Alfred A. Knopf, publishers
I don't care what the press release says, there is no "Wheels on the Van" on the Punk Farm website. And I'm pissed!
Okay, "Old McDonald" definitely rocks, with Sheep on vocals, Chicken on keyboard and ... oh, never mind. Hey, Random House, my kids wanna hear "Wheels", folks. Got that? Fix the site!
This is one of those sequels to a book I never read, but is worth getting even if you're a Punk Farm virgin like me. My son's already a fan, though struggling to keep loose galleys together is a pain. I'm ordering the bound version for sanity's sake.
In the first Punk Farm, a Wisconsin barnyard rocks it out while Farmer Joe sleeps. In this one, he's off to a tractor convention in Reno, so the gang -- Goat, Cow, Pig and the aforementioned Sheep and Chicken -- is taking their show cross-country.
But, hey, can they think up a cool new song? Will inspiration or their wretched van give out first?
Oooh ... suspense. I love it. And a twist on a song my kids actually know.
But you're missing half the book if you don't check out what other animals turn up where. My favorite: the flamingo groupie. You can actually learn something about the local fauna in far-flung corners of the U.S.
Punk Farm On Tour isn't another barnyard story, not with a goatee-sporting Goat who fixes engines or a Pig who's, well, a total pig. But what makes this especially stand out is its off-kilter humor and the creator's refusal to take anything seriously. And kids get it. Nothing's aimed over their heads at parents. Sure, you know more about punk than your kids. Krosocza obviously thinks that's curable.
On a side note, this was probably a bad time to give up vegetarianism. My kids are mortified at the thought of eating such talented critters. Rock on! And pass the wings ...
Rating: *\*\*\*\
Baby Bear's Big Dreams
by Jane Yolen; illustrated by Melissa Sweet
We all know Jane, don't we? I can dispense with the formal introduction about her 250 books and iconic status in kidlit circles?
Good.
All you really need to know is whether installment #983 in the Baby Bear series is any good.
Of course. She could probably write this stuff in her sleep. I remember reading on her blog that she still gets rejection letters. I don't believe it either, but I swear I'm not making it up.
This Baby Bear is well worth the cover price for rhymes that gleefully glide past and a fanciful premise. Okay, the idea of a little kid dreaming of what he'll get to do as a big kid has been done to death, but Yolen has a way of making it worth one more try:
When I grow up
in a year or four,
I'll get a tent
and go explore.
I'll wear brown boots
and a feathered hat,
and bring along
a sleeping mat.
See? What'd I tell ya. Nice stuff. And you even get some counting in there, as she goes from one year to five, with Baby Bear still needing a good-night tuck even when he's all grown up. It's written from inside a kid's head, with all the contradictions and exaggerations playfully glossed over with a big smooch.
Sweet's watercolors are, well, sweet, and get the job done without too much fuss.
Rating: *\*\*\
The Puddle Pail
by Elisa Kleven
Tricycle Press
I'm a Kleven fan from the earliest days of this blog (see here and here); her hippie-chick sensibility fits with the repressed rebel beneath my domesticated facade. I got a bit carried away, however, when I started to see myself in Ernst, a daydreaming alligator at odds with his practical friend Sol.
Both have buckets for the beach. Sol wants to collect shells, feathers, pretty rocks, normal stuff. Ernst -- a regular in Kleven's books -- wants to collect what he admires: the clouds or stars or the moon. He eventually chooses puddles, or, perhaps more accurately, the shimmering kaleidoscope of what's reflected in them.
What he ends up with is one huge pail of water, which reflects all the other wondrous things that float past. And there are other uses too, which even Sol comes to appreciate.
I still have an inner Sol -- acquisitive, hard-nosed, impatient -- that grew like a tumor and represents a Greek chorus of disapproving relatives and schoolmates. It's hard to silence Sol and go back to peacefully collecting clouds and puddles, but then that is partly what this blog is for.
Kleven's watercolor and collage illustrations are typically cluttered with odd bits, tiny critters, unexpected textures and colors, all swirling dreamily around its central figures. It's a messy aesthetic; fun and spontaneous without being in the least accidental.
Rating: *\*\*\
Albert 3
by Lani Yamamoto
There's an Albert 1 and 2, but this stands on its own as a sweet and poignant glimpse inside a four-year-old boy's head.
And I know that four-year-old. Change his name to Seth, and it's the same kid, trying to keep himself amused -- quietly, please -- while I put his sister down for a nap.
Everyone tells Albert he's such a big boy, and he wants to figure out exactly how big. He measures himself against ants, a sunflower, the sky. He crosses the "pit of peril," really a gap between the sofa and ottoman filled with toothy plush toys.
So of course this calls for removing all his clothes, as he decides:
Sometimes he felt big,
and sometimes he felt small,
but he always felt like Albert!
Yamamoto mixes reality and imagination, with a few surreal twists and much that doesn't get explained because it obviously makes perfect sense to Albert.
Simple ink drawings filled in with flat color make for a pleasing and understated layout, the better to keep us inside Albert's busy mind. And what a fine place it is to be.
Note: I couldn't find an Amazon thingee for Albert 3. My apologies.
Rating: *\*\*\
Pirates Don't Change Diapers
by Melinda Long; illustrated by David Shannon
Sick of pirate books? Me neither. And you know if David Shannon's the illustrator, it must be deliciously awful. The pirates must look extra smelly and weirdly ugly, but in a totally non-scary way.
And so they do, in this sequel to a book I never read but wish I had. Little Jeremy Jacob has blue eyes as big as saucers, and they get even rounder when his pirate buddies show up looking for the treasure they buried in his yard.
Mom's out running errands. Dad and the baby are napping. Okay, make that just Dad.
You can probably figure out the plot from here as the pirates go nuts trying to keep wee Bonney Anne quiet long enough to dig up their loot. But does anyone ever buy a pirate book for its plot? Pirates ... treasure ... that pretty much sums things up.
Long blithely sticks in a few anachronisms, which Shannon zealously exploits, for a few zings and groaners that parents will get sooner than kids. It's sorta like the criticism of Shrek--it parodies meta-stories that kids haven't read yet. So how do you explain its humor?
Aw, never mind. Shannon's art is so malevolently cunning, such a seemless combination of messy and bright, detailed and chaotic, and so chock-full of visual gags that the book's a can't miss.
Rating: *\*\*\
Preiss Glasser's* Nancy is a dazzling confection of jelly-belly colors and dramatic gestures who gets it right in the end, and we forgive her when O'Connor gives her the right touch of humility. 