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June 2023: Board Books
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Kathryn, The Princess of Picture-Books
(last edited May 27, 2023 06:38PM)
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May 27, 2023 06:32PM
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So, my babies really did love the high contrast B&W board books. Peter Linenthal's were the favorites. They loved to stare at the images.
Once they were a few months older, they got into the books featuring photos of other babies, such as these by Margaret Miller. Again, these wouldn't necessarily have been the books *I* would have chosen but babies love to see other babies and my kids were riveted and I naturally came to love them because of their enthusiasm.
Sandra Boynton's books were super popular once they were a little older and ready for more words and a bit of storyline. The rhyme schemes are great and we turned some of them into songs. Some of her books are better than others, IMO, but we had several favorites including Barnyard Dance and Snuggle Puppy!.
I'll be back soon with more of the books for the toddler phase as well as what I'm finding at the library now :-)
Hooray! This is a timely topic. My younger cousin and his wife are expecting baby #2 next week. They also have a 21 month old. I've been reading some board books and chose The Cozy Classics: Oliver Twist as my baby gift. It was cousin's wife's choice. Oliver Twist and Huckleberry Finn were childhood favorites. I got the older boy Cozy Classics: Moby Dick as his baby gift since they were living in Nantucket at the time. These books are now out of print and hard to get. Used books are starting to get expensive. It took me 3 years to get Oliver Twist. I'm trying to get my hands on The Family Book board book for the babies but haven't come across one at a price I want to pay. I have a few others I'm looking at.
I LOVE the Jane Austen books they did and I also love Pride & Prejudice: A BabyLit® Counting Primer
Niece #2 loved it when she was younger and used it to teach her toys when she played school. (I also gave them Dracula and Romeo & Juliet). I got my boss's new granddaughter a BabyLit book on the National Parks since we work at a National Historic Park.
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I agree, this was soooo cute!
Kathryn wrote: "QNPoohBear wrote: "I LOVE the Jane Austen books they did and I also love Pride & Prejudice: A BabyLit® Counting Primer"I agree, this was soooo cute!"
It really captured the story in a nutshell. I didn't think some of the others were as good with the storytelling. I've read most of them. The independent boutique shops and bookstores sell them. Barnes & Noble might too but I can't afford to buy brand new books babies are going to destroy.
I'm eyeing This Little Rainbow: A Love-Is-Love Primer
It looks so cute and teaches queer history.
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One I'd like to test with an 'under 3' rug rat or infant is Everywhere Babies. I loved the detailed pictures by Marla Frazee but the text is relatively long and the pictures seem like they'd overwhelm a little one.
I did read a few while sitting at the library and I took notes, so soon I'll be back with them.
Karen Katz was a favorite of my nieces when they were babies. I used to bring my oldest niece board books from the library every week. She used to make the sign for "book" when she saw me. I don't even remember which ones I got her anymore. I know I got my sister's kids Romeo & Juliet: A BabyLit® Counting Primer and Dracula: A BabyLit® Counting Primer (my sister's choices) and niece had a lot of questions about Dracula I couldn't answer. She also enjoyed Cozy Classics: Moby Dick especially the page at the end where the captain with the wooden leg drowns! I read her Cozy Classics: Emma and added in more of the story and lesson. She seemed to like it. That's my favorite because of Emma's facial expressions.
The Cozy Classics have one word per page and the adult can help the child develop language reading that one word and then as the child gets older, adding in more of the story.
I got my cousins' kids both versions of The Wizard of Oz.
and
. They had a Toto dog when they were growing up and the story is a family favorite, my uncle's favorite movie. When my cousins were little, they dressed up as the characters for Halloween (except the oldest boy who was a Ninja). Babylit has board books of classic novels for older toddlers/pre-schoolers that share more of the story.
Mod
Illustrations charming. But there is no story. It's really a nonfiction chart of different styles from different nations and cultures, disguised as a story. No map!! No further reading, no notes, no explanation about what the different features of the clothing signify or which are important, nothing actually to help the child learn anything. Doesn't even tell us whether these are traditional everyday outfits, or ceremonial, or still worn. Deeply disappointing.
Would've made a pretty good board book, though, with the bright colors and simple concept.)
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This dual language board book (both written and illustrated by Belle Yang) basically and simply introduces the numbers from one to ten in both English and Mandarin Chinese. The fact that the pinyin has been included, is much appreciated, however and in my humble opinion, it really should have been used within the text proper (right and immediately underneath the Chinese characters) and NOT just placed at the back of the book as a supplement (for while the additional pinyin is indeed a wonderful language teaching and learning aid, having it relegated to the back means that one has to constantly flip back and forth, which is or at least can be somewhat if not majorly distracting and time consuming). The accompaying illustrations are sweet, bright and descriptive, but also rather cartoon like and juvenile in look and feel, and as such definitely mirroring both scope and general purpose (as A Nest in Springtime is most definitely primarily meant and conceptualised for the very young, for children just learning their numbers). That being said, A Nest in Springtime might also be of use for introducing basic numbers in Mandarin Chinese to teenagers and/or adults taking a first year, beginnig level language course (provided that the instructor does not limit himself or herself to course materials primarily meant and created for young children, as that could rapidly and easily become tedious and frustrating to and for teenaged and adult learners, not to mention majorly annoying).
Summertime Rainbow: A Mandarin Chinese-English Bilingual Book of Colors
This simple dual-langue board book introduces basic colours in English and Mandarin Chinese. The included pinyin is much appreciated, however, it really should have been used within the text proper (underneath the Chinese characters) and not just placed at the back of the book as a supplemental note (for while the pinyin is indeed a wonderful additional learning tool, having it relegated to the back can easily prove frustrating as it means or rather as it can mean having to constantly flip back and forth to check, to verify). The accompanying illustrations are sweet, warm and descriptive, and although very much carton like and juvenile in look, they do work well with the presented text, successfully and glowingly aesthetically mirroring the scope and general purpose of Summertime Rainbow (as it is basically meant for very young children just learning their colours). That being said, the material presented in and by Summertime Rainbow might also be of use and benefit for introducing basic colours in Madarin Chinese to adult learners taking a first level colege or university language course (as long as the instructor does not limit himself or herself to using teaching materials primarily meant for young children, as that could rapidly become tedious and frustrating to and for adult learners, not to mention annoying).
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Grace Lin's Dim Sum For Everyone is for all intents and purposes sweet and enlightening (and perhaps even quite engaging for the very young). However, and on a purely personal level, I really cannot say that I like the accompanying illustrations all that much, as they are simply much too cartoon-like for my aesthetic tastes (working well enough in conjunction with the narrative, but not in any way magical or spectacular, just simply and basically adequate). Also, and for me probably even more importantly, and as some of my GR friends have already pointed out in their own excellent reviews of Dim Sum For Everyone, the text itself (Grace Lin's printed words), they are rather, no actually, they are very much lacking in any kind of substance. Granted, the storyline of Dim Sum for Everyone of a Chinese American family going out for a traditional Dim Sum is to a point captivating and delightful, but there just is not all that much to it (not all that much detail, not all that much that can be described as more than a rather obvious scratching the proverbial surface of rudimentary description and depiction of the joys and ways and means of Dim Sum). And as someone who used to go out for Dim Sum quite regularly (during my university years), what I actually appreciate most are the two back pages of Dim Sum for Everyone which list twenty-two Dim Sum dishes (along with both the English and Chinese names of said dishes), and the two front pages, which detail some of the ingredients and utensils used to prepare and eat Dim Sum. As an introduction to Dim Sum for a very young child, Dim Sum For Everyone would likely work quite well, but indeed, older children would more than likely require more detail and a considerably stronger, more informative textual offering from Grace Lin.
But sadly, and really totally frigging horribly, Dim Sum for Everyone has actually now (in 20022) been banned in Duval County, Florida (along with 176 other books, sigh). And honestly, for ANYONE who thinks that Dim Sum for Everyone, that this totally and utterly inoffensive picture book should be banned and restricted (and this also includes politicians), well, you are obviously seriously deranged and unhinged, and TOTAL SHAME on you.
Mod
A gentle rhyming bedtime/counting book, with colourfully expressive illustrations, Molly Bang's Ten, Nine, Eight is a soothing lullaby for young children (about their various bedtime routines), whilst also counting down from the numbers ten to one. For an adult, the author's presented and featured text might feel a bit lacking in substance (and the first rhyme sequence really does not seem to work all that well either), but for the intended audience, for toddlers just learning their numbers, it sweetly and soothingly hits the proverbial spot.
What I (as an adult and generally rather critical, academically inclined reader) actually most appreciate about Ten, Nine, Eight is that while the presented characters are clearly African American, that fact is never belaboured by the author (and neither is the fact that it is the father who readies his young daughter for bedtime). Ten, Nine, Eight is simply a tender bedtime story (with gender and ethnicity demonstrated through the illustrations, but fortunately never really specifically pointed out via the narrative, just existing as a natural, a given).
Mod
Similar in both construction and style to its companion book Discovering Numbers, Discovering Words is also and equally simple and basic, but indeed and in fact absolutely and utterly brilliant in and with its very simplicity (a triple-language primary level alphabet board book in English, French and Cree for young children just learning their letters). Now the expressively descriptive and impressive accompanying pictures (with of course one illustrative spread for each letter of the alphabet) by Canadian Cree author/illustrator Neepin Auger (who is the daughter of renowned First Nations artist Dale Auger) are bright, simple, uncluttered (and appreciatively Auger with Discovering Words also strives to use as many objects and images as possible that have cultural sigificance to and for First Nations children, such as a canoe for the letter C, a drum for the letter D, moccasins for the letter M and so on and so on). And while personally (and once again similar to my reaction to Discovering Numbers) I most certainly would have liked and even perhaps needed a pronunciation key for especially the presented and shown Cree words (as well as perhaps a bit of supplemental information on the Cree language and Cree culture) this truly is just my scholarly self talking and really above and beyond the scope and concept of Discovering Words (since it really is supposed to be first and foremost simply just a triple language basic alphabet book for young children). Very highly recommended, and yes, in almost every way, Discovering Numbers presents a truly and wonderfully perfect first book of letters for the very young (and perhaps even for anyone interested in a simple and brightly illustrated introduction to twenty-six English, Cree and French nouns).
Discovering Numbers
Now Discovering Numbers is basically a triple-language counting board book (English, French and Cree) for very young children (covering the numbers one through ten, simply, basically, but beautifully). The accompanying illustrations by Cree author/illustrator Neepin Auger (who is the daughter of renowned First Nations artist Dale Auger) are bright, colourful, delightfully uncluttered (and Auger also for the most part depicts countable objects that have cultual sigificance to and for First Nations children, such as feathers, sweetgrass braids, teepees and the like). And while personally, I definitely would have liked and appreciated a pronunciation key for especially the Cree numbers (as well as perhaps also a bit of supplemental information on the Cree language and Cree cultural practices) this is really just my scholarly self talking and is actually rather above and beyond the scope of this book (since first and foremost Discovering Numbers is just a board book introducing the numbers one to ten, which it achieves most successfully I might add). Very highly recommended and truly a perfect first picture book of numbers for toddlers (and of course, Discovering Numbers is also a perfect language teaching vehicle and tool to introduce toddlers to counting from one to ten in English, Cree and French).
Mod
A sweetly simple, nearly wordless picture book featuring an anxious mother duck searching rather in vain for one of her eight ducklings (which is always depicted as present in the picture, but mischievously hiding at the very edges of each illustration spread), I can certainly understand and appreciate how and why Nancy Tafuri's Have You Seen My Duckling? won a Caldecott Honour Medal (the illustrations are descriptive, detailed and fun, with a colour scheme that is both bright and muted at the same time). Now while I personally do find the presented narrative (and actually the entire storyline) almost a bit too superficial for my own tastes, even bordering on the potentially mundane, for the right and thus the intended audience (very young children, and perhaps even absolutely beginning novice readers), Have You Seen My Duckling? would and could have much potential appeal (and might also be used by parents and caregivers for counting practice, find and search activities, as well as naming and researching, studying the diverse animals, the diverse denizens of the pond the mother duck approaches and asks concerning her missing offspring, her missing duckling, a bittern, a turtle, a beaver, fishes, a grebe).
Mod
Fun, simple and nearly wordless, while I have in many ways adored Lita Judge's Red Sled, and absolutely love the joyful (and at times also horrified) expressions on the animals' faces as they proceed to toboggan down the hill with the little girl's sled (and the few choice onomatopoeic accompanying words are indeed priceless and totally laugh out loud funny) I do nevertheless kind of wish that the little girl had right from the beginning been part of the animals' sledding party (as while I do appreciate that after the bear returns the borrowed red sled, the final illustration clearly shows both the animals and the little girl tobogganing together, I guess I would definitely have preferred the little girl to have been part of the animals' fun and mayhem right from the onset, right from the start of Red Sled). Still, for what it is (a simple, straight forward and for the most part completely wordless picture book), Red Sled not only does what it is supposed to do (simply and sweetly relate a fun and engaging tale of winter animals enjoying sledding and romping in the snow) I also think that for the intended audience, for young children (from about the age of two to four), Red Sled would probably be (should likely be) a total and entertainingly fun and engaging reading (or rather mostly viewing) experience (and indeed, therefore also absolutely hitting the proverbial sweet spot so to speak).
Mod
I know that Vera B. Williams' More More More Said the Baby won a Caldecott Honour Medal, but personally, I just do not like either the text or the accompanying illustrations all that much (I guess can to a certain point appreciate both effort and sentiment, but the end product of More More More Said the Baby feels rather majorly lacking to and for me). Yes, the illustrations are definitely bright, colourful and full of joyful movement, but frankly, I find some of them weird, creepy and strange in nature. And while I would not necessarily call them inappropriate, especially the picture of the father repeatedly kissing his little boy on his exposed belly button leaves a rather strange taste in my mouth, as does the depiction of the grandmother "tasting" Little Pumpkin's toes (now don't get me wrong, I actually do not think there is anything wrong with these behaviours themselves, but the visuals, the pictures of said actions, feel a bit uncanny and potentially disturbing, at least for me).
The accompanying narrative of More More More Said the Baby reads sweetly and humorously, but also often rather tediously, with an unnatural and painfully awkward lyricism (and is actually also kind of hard to read at times, as it seems to blend right into the illustrations, somewhat reducing reading ease, especially if one requires reading glasses or has even minor issues with visual contrast). And while I personally have no major (no huge) issues and complaints regarding the fact that the text is presented by Vera B. Williams in what one would and should likely label as colloquial American slang, many of the most negative, critical reviews of More More More Said the Baby quite take umbrage at the fact that proper grammatical forms are at times lacking (and although I consider this criticism more than a bit extreme and over the top, I also do believe that the slangy discourse of More More More Said the Baby is part of the reason, the text, the printed words do have the tendency to feel forced and awkward in places).
Now even with my issues and criticisms of More More More Said the Baby, I actually much appreciate that Vera B. Williams has depicted an ethnically diverse set of babies, and that the second baby, Little Pumpkin, while clearly African American, obviously has a Caucasian grandmother, a fact brilliantly shown by and with the illustrations, but not in any way ever textually belaboured or extensively analysed; it is simply presented as natural, as a given. And I truly find it more than a bit sad that there are actually quite a number of critical (ranting) reviews on especially Amazon that appear both shocked and rabidly angrily aghast at the fact that Little Pumpkin is African American while his or her grandmother is not (and some of these so-called reviews could sadly be straight out of a National Socialist guidebook on "racial purity"). Two and a half stars if half stars were possible for More More More Said the Baby, rounded up to three stars for effort and for the fact that multi-ethnicity and multiculturalism are so naturally and lovingly depicted!
Mod
Although yes, I do tend to find Greg Pizzoli's brightly and boldly green and pink hued illustrations just a trifle too cartoon-like for my own aesthetic tastes, his The Watermelon Seed is truly so so much fun and also at the same time something to which every child (as well as every adult who remembers his/her childhood) can likely and easily relate. For honestly, who has not had fears and worries of having a watermelon grow inside of one's stomach or guts because one has swallowed a watermelon seed (or a sunflower, a pumpkin, a walnut tree, whatever, depending on the type of seeds ingested)? Fun, engaging, humorous and for me personally, I also do smilingly appreciate that Pizzoli's crocodile protagonist and narrator enjoys watermelon covered with and in salt as dinner/supper fare, as that is and always has been one of my absolutely favourite ways of consuming melons. However and truth be told I would definitely have enjoyed and appreciated The Watermelon Seed a trifle if not even considerably more if after his initial fears, Greg Pizzoli's crocodile had lastingly learned that swallowing watermelon seeds is unproblematic and not dangerous (for having the same thing occur at the end of The Watermelon Seed, with the crocodile once again swallowing a watermelon seed and proceeding to get worried, while I guess potentially funny for some if not many readers, this does kind of annoy me and makes me roll my eyes a bit).
Mod
Both very much fun and also engagingly informative, Ed Young's Seven Blind Mice is in my opinion most perfectly suited for joyful and engaging entertainment but it also contains a seeming multitude of important teachables. Now while the main message promoted with and in Seven Blind Mice is of course that one needs to know, to be aware of, to understand the various parts to comprehend and appreciate the whole and this then vice versa, Seven Blind Mice might also be used to familiarise young children with basic colour patterns, the seven days of the week, as well as the numbers form one to seven. Highly recommended and truly in many ways, a perfect marriage of text and images! And although from a personal and aesthetic point of view, I would actually not really all that much consider Ed Young's illustrations as favourites, his pictorial rendering are indeed a wonderful and useful mirror of both the featured narrative and the learning-based units shown and introduced (for example, how each of the seven blind mice's skin colour seems to correspond to the part of the unknown object, to the elephant, that is being studied each day, except for the last and completely white mouse which then also realises that when combined, the parts actually do make an elephant).
Mod
Always having loved winter, freezing temperatures and naturally also looking at and playing in the snow (and indeed, considerably more than ANY other season, but in particular and especially absolutely and vehemently despising most of the summer with its high heat and horrible, sticky and clammy humidexes) I am actually more than somewhat frustrated and disappointed that because I was born in Germany and lived in Germany until I was ten years old (when my family immigrated to Canada), I actually never did have the opportunity to experience Ezra Jack Keats' The Snowy Day as a child (and indeed only first heard about The Snowy Day and read it a couple of years ago for a Goodreads Children's Literature Group read). But even as an older (and indeed often exceedingly intellectual and critical) adult reader, nevertheless, The Snowy Day (although definitely simple in concept and execution and as such of course primarily geared towards the very young) was (and remains) a totally evocatively magical and sweetly wonderful, and yes also a personally nostalgic reading event to and for me, reminding me with its basic but still profoundly touching marriage of sparsely descriptive text and accompanying glorious images of the magic of winter, of the many joys of playing in the snow, of how much winter as a season has always meant to me (and how much I absolutely love love love pictorial renderings of snow and that the pure whiteness of snow will always totally and absolutely trump spring, summer and even most of autumn, except perhaps the painted red and yellow foliage of October and November forests).
Now quickly this morning rereading The Snowy Day (and bien sûr feasting my eyes on the stark but beautifully evocative and magical mounds of snow and on little Peter in his orange snowsuit enjoying his playtime, his day outside romping around and celebrating winter), well this certainly has made me feel physically considerably cooler, refrehsed and less heat-bothered (with our current hot and humid Southern Ontario summer weather) than either my fans or even truth be told my air conditioning unit even remotely can and are able to achieve. And while I do realise that there has supposedly been sometimes a bit of controversy with regard to The Snowy Day, as the main character, Peter, is African American, and author/illustrator Ezra Jack Keats is not, sorry, but there is at least in my humble opinion nothing even remotely problematic or issue heavy here by any stretch of the imagination. For The Snowy Day is simply and wonderfully the delightful story of one small and eponymous young boy having fun in the snow, enjoying his winter playtime outside and that he happens to be African American is just a simple fact of life (and I for one in fact and indeed also massively do applaud Ezra Jack Keats in so far that young Peter's ethnicity is basically and naturally shown and depicted in The Snowy Day, but is NEVER in any way belaboured or made much of, as Peter really is just a little boy having fun, and he could be any little boy, in fact he could be any little child, with his ethnicity and indeed if one were to go even further, also his gender being of no real significance whatsoever). Five stars!!
Mod
I Love You Slow Much: A Sweet and Funny Baby Animal Board Book for Babies and Toddlers has great wordplay. For babies and toddlers? Am I underestimating the sophistication of infants? It also has a need for a key - I don't know if the spotted cat was a cheetah or something else.
When Spring Comes: An Easter And Springtime Book For Kids is simpler and brighter than some, but I don't think it's really meant to be a BB. "Spring can come quickly or slowly. It changes its mind a lot" is a great line... but rather sophisticated, no?
Board books are not just for infants and toddlers! When my youngest nephew was I think 6, his grandfather gave him a board book on astronomy I think or physics. It was a textbook inside a board book. When reading to babies, it's about building language and not necessarily about the content. They won't be able to understand the words but they understand repetition. Jack Wang, a university writing instructor, got bored reading books like Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? to his daughter and that's why he developed the Cozy Classics series. At work we read a giant board book of Charlie Needs a Cloak to first graders. It was too young for them though.
If I go out this afternoon I'll check the toy boutique and see which new board books look cute.
Mod
Babies Love Animals is a high-contrast BB in the sense that it's black and white, but there's so much detail as each animal family is cuddled in the shape of a heart... I don't imagine it easy for youngest to process/decode. It's wordless, and it opens accordion style... so not a 'book' so much as a toy. The blurb says "perfect for birth to 2 years old" but I doubt it. Also, it suffers from bad science, depicting all those daddy animals so involved.
Thanks for Thanksgiving would be ok as a traditional book, except for a complete lack of diversity. Too much detail and too much to process for a BB.
message 22:
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Cheryl, Host of Miscellaneous and Newbery Clubs
(last edited Jun 02, 2023 01:42PM)
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Pin Pon is subtitled 'bilingual nursery rhymes' on the cover and it is not nursery rhymes, it is a day in the life of a child (?) and his mom (? an elephant?). Bleh.
Eat Together is funny, simple enough for tots, silly enough for adults. Too bad it's not vegetarian friendly. (Not a food-based gathering because it's about ants and their thievery, not about people eating together. I guess I'd give it 3 stars overall, maybe 4 as a BB.
Mod
Both aesthetically splendid on an illustrative level (as is of course natural and in fact also to be expected with Julie Flett's always stunning and visually expressive artwork) and indeed to and for me as a language and linguistics enthusiast also very much educational and enlightening regarding Cree as a language (and how colours are used in the latter), I have found Black Bear Red Fox absolutely wonderful in every way. And yes, as a German instructor (and a budding linguist) I also and in particular do totally appreciate the detailed supplemental information (at the front of Black Bear Red Fox) on Cree, the always necessary pronunciation guide, that in Cree, colours words are obviously seen and approached as verbs and not as adjectives, with Cree nouns being divided into two categories, into inanimate and animate objects (which information has definitely been very much helpful to and for me, as in Black Bear Red Fox, the colour endings for animals are obviously animate and for plants inanimate, makes perfectly common sense, but yes, very nice and educational to have the book so clearly demonstrate and show this).
Highly recommended and indeed, even if you might not be all that interested in the text itself (in the dual language Cree and English colours and nouns) and the detailed linguistic information on Cree and how it as a language works colour-words wise, just Julie Flett's pictures (colourful and full of a simplicity that nevertheless is to my eyes also quite complex in nature) are enough to in my opinion seriously consider Black Bear Red Fox as a book either for purchase or to sign out from your local library (if available).
Mod
When I was very young, like the little rabbit child depicted in Margaret Wise Brown's classic Goodnight Moon, I also had the tendency to bid goodnight to most if not all of the objects in my room (both those readily visible and things located in drawers and closets). And therefore (although truth be told, I actually never did experience Goodnight Moon as a child, which I really kind of regret more than a bit), both Margaret Wise Brown's text and Clement Hurd's accompanying illustrations have felt magical and sweet not only just in and of themselves, they have also (and of course) nostalgically taken me back to my own childhood, where indeed, once I had retired for the night, I would spend many minutes telling my books, my toys, my furniture and such goodnight (but ironically speaking, not the moon, for as a young child I was actually kind of afraid of the moon, especially when it was sickle shaped, and thus usually rather avoided either looking at the moon or talking to and about it).
A wonderful combination of Margaret Wise Brown's gentle and repetitively lulling text and Clement Hurd's brilliantly rendered pictures (which juxtaposition of bright colours interspersed with monochrome does much to gently tone down the inherent garishness of the former), in my opinion, Goodnight Moon is a perfect bedtime read for the very young, in all ways deserving to be labelled a classic and much beloved by many (and honestly, I also cannot believe and fathom that Goodnight Moon has actually sometimes been challenged as supposedly inappropriate simply because some obviously seriously emotionally unbalanced, mentally unhinged puritans have found the fact that in the little rabbit child's room, there are a few dolls depicted as being in the buff, as wearing no clothing as somehow anathema and supposedly sexually charged).
Mod
Now after simply adoring many of the later instalments in Alexandra Day's Carl the Rottweiler series, I have to admit that I was and still remain more than a bit underwhelmed by the first book of the series, by Good Dog, Carl. I do think that in general, God Dog, Carl is a sweet (albeit for some parents, perhaps also a touch unnerving) story, full of fun, whimsy and mischief. However, neither Alexandra Day's narrative nor her accompanying illustrations have managed to completely charm me like I have been "wowed" by for example Carl's Summer Vacation) and Carl's Snowy Afternoon. For the illustrations in both of these later Carl books are truly magical, wonderfully bold and really truly do capture the cuteness, fun and typical characteristics of a family Rottweiler, whereas the illustrations in Good Dog, Carl seem (at least to and for me) a bit bland and washed-out in comparison. They are well-executed, and both humorous and sweet, but lack the whimsy and colourful expressiveness displayed in the artwork of many of the later Carl the Rottweiler books.
And yes, I also do tend to find the stories (the plot lines) in the later books a bit more appealing and interesting (realistic) as stories in and of themselves. Now that is not to say that I did not truly enjoy "reading" about Carl and Madeleine's escapades in Good Dog, Carl. I have no moral or philosophical problems with the fact that the mother lets the family Rottweiler babysit Madeleine, and it always amazes me that there are actually unenlightened, moronic individuals who not only vehemently despise Good Dog, Carl, but actually seem think that it is somehow dangerous and should in fact be censored and even removed from library shelves (for example, one obviously brainless patron at our local library recently left a comment requesting that this supposedly dangerous book be removed). Honestly, Good Dog, Carl is a fantastical and fun children's picture book, and if any parents think or believe that leaving a baby alone in the care of a dog is correct parenting (and would even remotely consider imitating this), they have major pre-existing mental health issues that have not been caused by the book, that are not the fault of Good Dog, Carl.
However, I guess it is also to a certain extent the fantastical elements in Good Dog, Carl that have made me enjoy it rather less than some of the later Carl the Rottweiler books I have read and adored. Many of Carl's and Madeleine's escapades in Carl's Summer Vacation, Carl's Snowy Afternoon and even Carl's Birthday are quite close to reality; they portray actions, interactions, games etc. that children and Rottweilers (or dogs in general) do engage in and often engage in together (sliding down a slide, fetching a baseball, the dog pulling a sled). And one of the reasons I love these above mentioned three books so much was/is because of the nostalgia, of seeing illustrations of a Rottweiler that could so easily have been the Rottweiler(s) my family owned when my siblings and I were younger. The story depicted in Good Dog, Carl, however, they did not create (and does not create) that same sense of nostalgia in me, as none of our Rottweilers would ever have let us swim in a fish tank, nor would they have known how to give us a bath and dry us with a hairdryer (and thankfully so).
But of course, I would still and definitely recommend this generally charming wordless (or rather, nearly wordless) picture book to and for anyone who likes dogs (and yes, both adults and children). But really, if you are going to be reading Good Dog, Carl, you should also take the time to read and enjoy some of the later Carl the Rottweiler instalments (as both the stories and the illustrations do much improve as series progresses).
Mod
Well to tell the truth, I simply had to read Mick Inkpen’s 1991 picture book Kipper (when I noticed the book title on Open Library) because our Rottweiler when I was a child (and a teenager) was in fact also named Kipper.
And indeed, this sense of family nostalgia and fond remembrances certainly has made me appreciate Mick Inkpen writing about and illustrating a story about a delightful and funnily entertaining canine with the exact same name as my, as our treasured family dog (and to smile at the fact that Kipper as a name for a dog is obviously acceptable and not even all that inherently strange, unlike a schoolmate tried to make me believe when I told her our Rottweiler’s name in grade six).
However, even though I obviously and of course adore the book title of Kipper and also think that Mick Inkpen’s illustrations of Kipper the dog are colourfully expressive and definitely supremely cute (albeit I personally would much rather have Kipper be a larger breed like a Labrador, a German Shepherd, a Golden Retriever or naturally a Rottweiler), quite frankly, the entire storyline of Kipper almost immediately becomes a bit too unrealistic and too anthropomorphic for me. Because even though it is certainly sweet and also more than a bit thoughtful that Kipper finally after trying to “upgrade” his sleeping arrangements realises that his old dog basket, his blanket and his toys are much more to his personal liking and will also make him sleep much better than any of the new implements and ideas he has been trying, honestly, I most definitely would in particular enjoy Mick Inkpen’s printed words considerably more if Kipper the dog were not seen and described as talking and acting very much like a human, thus leaving me with a definite appreciation of Mick Inkpen’s combination of text and images but also not really totally textually enjoying just how overly humanised Kipper is as a story in and of itself, as I really do think that Kipper’s dialogues and that it is he himself who tries to change and upgrade his sleeping quarters make him as a character not dog-like enough for my reading tastes, make Kipper too much like a person.
And finally, after having briefly checked the remaining Kipper books, I do think that they would more than likely all be rather too much into making Kipper speak and act like a human being for me to continue on with the series (although I do believe that for many children, Mick Inkpen’s combination of an engaging narrative and fun illustrations would probably be a total hit).
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As a three year old (in Germany, in 1969, and thus in the very same year the book was in fact published), I absolutely adored Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar (or I should rather say that I loved the German version of the book, that I found Die kleine Raupe Nimmersatt absolutely wonderful, and that I have in fact only read the English version but this one time, being today, and as a Kindle download). And if I therefore am mostly rating The Very Hungry Caterpillar with my memories of childhood and my inner child in mind, The Very Hungry Caterpillar is most definitely and always will be a full and glowing five stars for me.
But yes, as an adult, I do indeed and well understand that the main "protagonist" that the very hungry caterpillar is never in any manner textually and narratively developed as a character, that he remains rather flat and one-dimensional throughout, and that he also consumes mostly food products that are not even remotely suitable for caterpillars (as they basically consume mostly leaves). However, I also and absolutely know and realise for a fact that when I was three years old (and had Die kleine Raupe Nimmersatt repeatedly read to me), whether the list of foods the caterpillar was eating was suitable and acceptable for butterfly larvae or not did not matter all that much to me (if at all), and that for the intended audience, both the text and the accompanying images of The Very Hungry Caterpillar are generally pure unadulterated joy, magic, and perhaps even perfection, with the final illustration, the beautiful and intensely coloured butterfly into which the erstwhile very hungry caterpillar morphs, being the ultimate icing on an already most delicious cake (and no food based pun is intended with this here allusion either).
And indeed, I do have so very many fond memories of both my mother and grandmothers repeatedly and always gladly reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to me (in German), with my most special and evocative, precious recollection being my mother's mother taking the time to meticulously and slowly explain to me that caterpillars do not really eat chocolate cake and ice cream cones (that they consume leaves and grass, that chocolate and most of the other foods mentioned in the book would actually and likely make the caterpillars very sick) when I asked if I could feed chocolates to the caterpillars in the garden. So I guess with my remembered and recalled question to my grandmother in mind, I should perhaps offer this small caveat to parents that they might consider also letting their young children know that caterpillars do not and should not consume most of the food products mentioned and depicted in The Very Hungry Caterpillar, lest they are like me and are curiously wondering whether the caterpillar's presented and depicted consumption is realistic (and yes, I really did want to try and feed chocolates and ice cream cones to the caterpillars I had seen in grandmas's garden and was a trifle disappointed at my grandmother's answer to my question).
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I still (and yes, even years later) cannot even remotely fathom that Bill Martin Junior's classic and universally beloved by young children Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? was actually and in fact categorically banned in 2010 by the State Board of Education in Texas because its (and no, I am not really feeling contrite at all or in any manner guilty about being insulting and denigrating here) obviously woefully lacking in even basic intelligence members (and in particular totally moronic board member Pat Harding, who also made things much much worse and herself look absolutely and utterly ridiculous by repeatedly and vocally trying to justify her sorry self) somehow and in error believed that Bill Martin Junior was the author, was the same Bill Martin of the DePaul University in Chicago, who in 2008 penned an academic textbook called Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation (a book I have actually read, and no, it did not turn me into a raging Communist either, Ms. Harding).
I mean, banning children's books is bad enough anyhow as well as it being totally undemocratic and dictatorial (read Stalinist, Fascist), but really for those extremist right-wing Texas ignorants who were obviously infesting the State Board of Education like dangerous parasites to ban and to forbid Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? from being used and displayed in Texas schools because they were obviously not able to figure out that the author of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? and the author of Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation were different Bill Martins (and especially since Bill Martin Junior had died in 2004 and the other Bill Martin did not even pen his ethical Marxism book until 2008), this just so totally and painfully shows that the Texas Board of Education's members who insisted on Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? being removed from schools are either not able or not willing to adequately research authors or the books they write. And really, how is the Texas Board of Education's 2010 banning of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? any different from when in the South Africa of apartheid, Anna Sewell's classic horse autobiography Black Beauty was banned by government bureaucrats because they thought the novel was about people with darker skins being beautiful (and of course, this could not be accepted in South Africa, and without the bureaucrats even bothering to read Black Beauty, it was banned).
But then again, perhaps Pat Harding actually did read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? and thought (after noticing the author's name and freaking out in error and terror) that there indeed might be some kind of hidden and insidious left wing propaganda present and ready to hurt young children in Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, to turn them into Communist agitators, that perhaps Eric Carle's illustration of that big red bird signifies Bill Martin Junior's support of Russian Communism, of Leninism and that the yellow duck's colour could be considered as being a positive nod towards China, towards Maoism? I mean, who knows, and while I am of course being majorly tongue in cheek and facetious here, it is indeed pretty darn surprising and woefully painful how many strange reasons for banning books especially book banners in the USA and in staunchly Social Conservative areas do seem to regularly come up with and vehemently support (and democracy, my foot, since Social Conservatism is far far too often politically Fascist in scope and also even quite majorly politically and philosophically akin to Stalinism and Leninism at its extreme, at Social Conservatism's most reactionary and most radical).
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Helen Oxenbury’s board book Dressing is totally and utterly basic (which also means that Dressing obviously also has a definite age suitability limit of at the very latest three years of age maximum). And with Dressing Oxenbury demonstrates using a lovely combination of sweetly colourful, visually realistic pictures and a text ONLY consisting of clothing related nouns how a young toddler (a little boy) is being dressed for the day (from his diaper to finally a hat). But well, I do find it kind of strange that in Dressing the little boy’s shoes are not put on last, as that is definitely what I do when I put on my own clothing, and is also how my mother used to dress us when we were very young, and that in my humble opinion shoes need to come at the end and not somewhere in the middle of dressing oneself, although I guess that I might also be a bit ridiculous and anal taking any kind of umbrage at where in Dressing the little by’s shoes are donned (but well, I do stand by thinking that shoes are one of the last pieces of clothing we tend to put on, or rather they should be).
And yes, for a basic board book introducing toddlers to not only articles of clothing but also that these articles of clothing are meant to be put on, are meant to be worn, Dressing is for me and to me a pretty well perfect starting point, showing visually and textually the art of dressing oneself to very young children with simple artwork and very basic printed words (and with my only mild complaint regarding Dressing and the artwork being that I personally do wish the young boy having his clothes put on could be rendered by Helen Oxenbury with a bit of hair on his head, as not being completely bald).
Four stars for Dressing (and I sure hope that there are no ignorant MORONS out there who will freak out and rant that Dressing is inappropriate because Helen Oxenbry depicts a diaper and that the first picture of the toddler shows him naked except for having on that diaper, for honestly, I would consider ANYONE having issues with an illustration of a young child wearing nothing but a diaper as not only puritanical but hugely mentally unhinged).
Manybooks wrote: "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?I still (and yes, even years later) cannot even remotely fathom that Bill Martin Junior's classic and universally beloved by young children B..."
Manybooks,
Thank you for mentioning this because it's actually up for reelection on 9/20/23. I will listen to a German audio version in your honor.
Mod
Yes indeed, I oh so very fondly remember that James Krüss' absolutely delightful Henriette Bimmelbahn was one of my favourite "read to me" picture books when I was a young child, although truth be told, I also do now have to wonder a bit whether my mother, aunts and grandmothers might not have been a bit annoyed at and frustrated by my constant demands of "one more time" (nochmal, nochmal), as I really could not get enough of Henriette Bimmelbahn and kept asking for it to be read to me morning, noon and night. And indeed, the onomatopoeia and rhythm of James Krüss' verses, Lisl Stich's bright and lively accompanying illustrations, as well as the fact that the lines of poetry are actually physically presented as twisting and turning, akin to smiling locomotive Henriette's sojourn into and through the meadows, the fun the children have collecting flowers for their grandmas and grandpas (their Omas und Opas), this has all made this delightful romp through the countryside a perennial, a constant favourite (and one that has also aged surprisingly well, as rereading Henriette Bimmelbahn as an older adult has been nearly as magical as when it was read to me as a child, bringing smiles to my face and fond memories of childhood to my heart). Also available as a Kindle download, and while often, with classic picture books, their rerelease in an e-book format can be disappointing and aesthetically unpleasing, this has thankfully not at all been the case here, this has definitely not been the case with Henriette Bimmelbahn and so much so, that I actually do recommend the Kindle version as warmly and as strongly as the traditional paper book formats (especially considering that the Kindle download is generally, is often much less expensive than trying to purchase Henriette Bimmelbahn as a hard or softcover book).
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Now even though upon commencing with Margaret Mahy's Bubble Trouble, I was indeed smiling and very much enjoying both the fantastically hilarious premise of a little baby stuck in a large bubble and floating away and the humorously engaging, songlike rhymes (although I have to say that occasionally, the cadence and rhythm of Mahy's featured verses do have the annoying tendency to turn and feel a wee bit frustratingly uneven), sorry, but really, the actual featured storyline of Bubble Trouble, it just seems to go on and on for much too long, and yes, by the end of Bubble Trouble, I was actually getting both quite massively bored and thus also more than mildly peeved (especially since I also have not really aesthetically enjoyed Polly Dunbar's accompanying illustrations all that much either and have indeed even found that their garish gaudiness actually often seems to majorly distract me from the author's, from Margaret Mahy's verses, and so much so that I more than once have had to actually force myself to refocus my eyes back onto the actual text, back onto the verses themselves). Still an entertainingly engaging enough little interlude is Bubble Trouble (and likely because of the rollicking poetry, with ample plays on words and fun alliterations a perfect choice for a read aloud, although my ageing eyes do rather wish that the font size had been a trifle larger and the letters a bit thicker in circumference). But truly and sadly, from a total and complete personal reading pleasure point of departure and view, I have definitely found Bubble Trouble a bit ho-hum and much too tediously drawn out (and therefore, its Boston Globe Horn Book Award notwithstanding, for me, three stars is the absolute maximum I am willing to consider for Bubble Trouble).
Mod
Imaginative and marvellously innovative, and as such Color Zoo is really also a wonderfully simple but totally fun introduction to colours, shapes and animal names for young children (and I can certainly understand and applaud the Caldecott Honour designation award to author/illustrator Lois Ehlert), mainly as a read aloud of course, but Color Zoo would naturally also be delightful and engaging for children to explore on their own, as it is just the right size for exploring and curious little hands, and as a board book, children can not only observe the shapes and colours, but feel the raised configurations, touch them, repeatedly trace their contour lines.
And yes, I especially appreciate how the geometric shapes become increasingly complex as Color Zoo progresses (from a simple circle to more complex shapes such as a hexagon and octagon), and actually but in indeed also with a bit of frustration I kind of do wish that Lois Ehlert had equally done this with regard to the animal shapes (and names) designated and depicted in Color Zoo, moving from simple to more involved and complex offerings (as the animals do feel a bit haphazardly chosen, with complex and simple examples curiously intermingled, but that is a minor and likely even a rather personal issue).
Finally, a small but in my opinion also important caveat that due to the interactive nature of Color Zoo, I would tend to ONLY recommend the board book format. For with traditional hardcover or paperback editions of Color Zoo, pages could easily become loose, bent, ripped and torn by eager and exploring toddler hands (and considering that this is what children are actually supposed to in my opinion be doing with Color Zoo, it would in fact and indeed be almost a bit of a potential trap to not give them the board book, as with the other formats, even with gentle interactive usage, some damage will or at least likely could occur).
Mod
Well first and foremost, I guess I have to admit that I do find it rather disconcerting and definitely a trifle problematic that author/illustrator Greg Pizzoli has his owl going to sleep at night instead of being up and about (since owls of course are nocturnal and therefore tend to sleep during the day). However, I was still willing to swallow and subdue my sense of disbelief, as indeed, Good Night Owl does start out engagingly and humorously enough, with Owl continuously getting out of bed to look for the source of the squeak that is preventing him from settling down (and which readers right from the onset know is a mouse) definitely making me smile, that is UNTIL Owl ends up in a fit of supreme and raw temper basically demolishing his entire house to try to get rid of his noise issue. For sorry, but I honestly do not really consider Owl's destructiveness with regard to his roof and walls as presenting a good and positive attitude (and also giving a rather problematic potential message), since in my opinion, Good Night Owl could in a worst case scenario make young children believe that one could and perhaps even should deal with encountered problems (such as Owl's squeaky noise scenario) with anger and by being willfully and openly hostile (and yes, as other reviewers have pointed out, owls generally eat mice, so it is also more than a bit strange that Owl has no issues totally tearing down his house but then seemingly makes friends with the mouse that is the cause of all of this mayhem).
Combined with the fact that I have also not found the accompanying illustrations all that aesthetically pleasant, as I do seem to find Greg Pizzoli's pink and pastelly colour scheme not at all to my visual tastes, while I have in no way actively despised Good Night Owl, I also have not found either Pizzoli's text or his artwork personally appealing enough for more than a two star rating.
Mod
A delightfully fun and entertaining way to introduce toddlers to classical nursery rhyme and folklore characters (as well as basic rhyming verses), Janet and Alan Ahlberg's Each Peach Pear Plum promises and will in all likelihood also deliver hours upon hours of I-spy enjoyment (and not just of the specific characters presented in, featured in the text, as the bright, lively and descriptively detailed illustrations might also and repeatedly be used for additional object searches, such as getting children to locate various types of fruit, animals, furniture, crockery and the like).
And furthermore, with slightly older children, parents, caregivers, librarians could and should also consider using the illustrations of Each Peach Pear Plum for independent oral storytelling activities and practice, for encouraging youngsters to create, to make up their own descriptively fun tales and anecdotes about Tom Thumb, Cinderella and the other nursery rhyme and folklore characters mentioned and depicted (illustrated).
Most highly recommended (and honestly, if someone is indeed and sadly offended by the fact that the Three Bears are carrying guns and going hunting, please do note that no animals are either shot at or killed and that the image of Baby Bear tripping and causing a stray bullet to dislodge Baby Bunting and his crib can always and easily be used for a bit of a discussion regarding potentially unsafe and dangerous types of behavior, can always be used as a teaching and learning moment).
Mod
While I have indeed found Janet and Allan Ahlberg's The Baby's Catalogue fun and often delightfully smile-inducing (as well as also rather much enlightening with regard to all of the specifically British themes and vocabulary choices), there is just not enough of a featured storyline and plot (well, there really is no plot whatsoever) for me to consider more than a high three star rating (especially since the illustrations, which do seem to make up the bulk of The Baby's Catalogue, whilst bright, descriptive and full of motion, are also a trifle too caricature and cartoon like for my aesthetics, with some of the diverse facial expressions in particular sometimes appearing a bit exaggerated).
However, and the above having all been said, I do indeed still much love this book, how for example in the section on dads, there is a father changing a baby's diaper (and that so many of the babies in The Baby's Catalogue are depicted in the buff, are portrayed in the nude, as nakedness is entirely natural and there is nothing whatsoever wrong with this or with showing a baby's or a toddler's nudeness in books geared towards young children), not to mention that there are also two pictures of nursing mothers presented in The Baby's Catalogue (with the mothers also and thankfully NOT covering up either themselves or their infants). And furthermore, in conjunction with the section on potential accidents that might happen, and the fact that in the illustrative spread on nappies (on diapers), there are only reusable and washable diapers portrayed, and no Pampers and other disposable brands featured, the Ahlbergs' The Baby's Catalogue provides or at least should provide not only much fun and entertainment but also ample fodder for discussion and debate, and is therefore very much highly recommended (my three star ranking notwithstanding).
And now finally, and although this is indeed only a very small caveat (and one which some readers might well also consider rather totally insignificant and overly politically correct, as well as catering to so-called special interest groups), I personally also do feel the need to with a bit of frustration and annoyance point out that in the section of The Baby's Catalogue featuring siblings, featuring brothers and sisters, there is a single (but perhaps also significant) small illustration of a young boy (an older brother) wearing an American Indian, wearing a traditional Native American/Canadian headdress, a child therefore playing "Indian" (something that is considered anathema by many if not the majority of Native Americans and Canadians and something that should perhaps also be at least discussed and pointed out as being potentially not entirely comme il faut, as it is often considered very much a sign of disrespect and problematic cultural appropriation).
Mod
I still (and yes, even years later) cannot even remotely fathom that Bill Martin Junior's classic and universally beloved b..."
It is bad enough for a book like Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? to be banned, but it is even worse that it was banned because some ignoramus thought that Bill Martin Junior the children's author was the same as the one who wrote Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation (even though Bill Martin Junior was obviously someone completely different and had been DEAD for four years when Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation was written).
And that there are actually seemingly still "persons" wanting to get the book banned, that the book is "up for re-election" is ridiculous. I mean, are there still questions about the author?
Mod
Although in I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest Melaney Gleeson-Lyall's presented poem is indeed and definitely the epitome of simplicity, it is actually and in my opinion that very simplicity (just very quickly but always melodiously stating how the diverse animals of which the author is dreaming are moving, are soaring, jumping, running etc.) which makes I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest such a wonderfully soothing and delightful lullaby song (and yes, for children everywhere, as while author Melaney Gleeson-Lyall is a Musqueam Coast Salish author and artist, her poetry, her imagined dreams are universal, even if the animals featured in I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest are generally endemic to North America, to the Pacific Northwest of the book title).
Accompanied by bright and expressive artwork from more than ten First Nations artists (pictures that not only are an aesthetic, a visual feast of colour and light but also show the cultural traditions of the Native Northwest and in particular with regard to how animals have been both in the past as well as still in the present day artistically depicted), I do very highly and warmly recommend I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest and yes, do grant this book one of my increasingly rare five star rankings (and indeed, to also point out that even though I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest is only available as a board book, I do not consider it as something only and even primarily meant for babies and toddlers, I actually do tend to view I am Dreaming of ... Animals of the Native Northwest a wonderful and poetic and artistic celebration, a delightful dream for EVERYONE both young and old).
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So yes, Dutch picture-book artist Gerda Muller’s utterly charming and completely wordless tale is devoted (as the title obviously already suggests) to Winter (and there are in fact three other similar board books, representing Spring, Summer and Fall respectively).
Now Muller’s artwork for Winter, it expressively (and joyfully) follows both children and also a few adults around on typical and generally snow-imbued winter scenes and actually not ever presenting us with scenarios of depressing pouring rain or ice storms. And yes, Gerda Muller’s illustrative focus being mostly on snow is personally very much appreciated, albeit I do know and also realise that Muller only depicting white and snowy scenes in Winter and rather ignoring visual scenes of rain and ice events is of course a bit unrealistic, but well, I do love love love this (both urban and rural areas, mostly out of doors, but with Winter concluding inside with a traditional candle lit Christmas tree scene and another picture of a grandfather reading aloud to two children), with various traditional winter activities, such as making a snowman, skating, and snowball fights being presented (and also some the work that must be done in winter, like shovelling snow, keeping bird feeders filled with seeds and pulling a Christmas Tree home on a sled).
And while I usually do much prefer textual over wordless picture books, well and in my humble opinion, Gerda Muller’s illustrations for Winter really do not at all require any kind of verbal , written text, showing with their spectacularly delightful renderings of winter and outside fun in the snow a true and lovingly sweet celebration of winter as a season (and the only reason why my rating for Winter is four and not yet five stars is that I really do kind of wish that for the pictures of children enjoying outside winter activities, Gerda Muller would be showing just a wee bit more ethnic diversity).
Mod
Dutch picture-book artist Gerda Muller’s utterly charming wordless tale is devoted (as the title obviously suggests) to Spring (and there are in fact three other books, representing Summer, Fall and Winter respectively).
Muller’s artwork follows a young child through various activities on a traditional (European) farm, from feeding the animals to painting traditional Easter eggs (and even showing a scene where the little girl is needing to stay in bed one day due to a bit of a cold). And while I usually do prefer textual over wordless picture books, well, Gerda Muller’s illustrations for Spring really do not at all require a text, showing with their flowers, seeds, cavorting lambs, rainbows, foals, ducklings etc. a wonderful springtime book for very young children, but of course also suitable for slightly older children to practice independent storytelling and/or guessing games, delightful, colourful and truly a celebration of spring and a goodbye to winter! Highly recommend and most definitely five stars for both my adult self and my inner child (and I am definitely looking forward to the the other three of Gerda Muller’s seasonal board books which I am certainly expecting to be as magical as Spring has been).
Finally, even though I totally think that with Spring, Gerda Muller has created a wonderful and magical seasonal gem, I do feel that I should point out that the pictures featured are very Western European in scope, with a traditional farm such as would be found in countries like Holland, Northern France or Germany and obviously also showing a Caucasian family, nothing at all wrong with this (and in my opinion even to be expected considering that Gerda Muller is Dutch), but this does mean that in Spring there is not really any visual ethnic diversity to be encountered (even though I do very much believe the many activities the little farm girl engages in and experiences in this book are indeed universally redolent of springtime and thus sweet and fun pictures for all young children everywhere).
Mod
Dutch picture-book artist Gerda Muller’s charming wordless tale is devoted (as the title naturally and obviously suggests) to Summer (and there are in fact three other such board books, representing Spring, Fall and Winter respectively).
So yes, Gerda Muller’s artwork in Summer almost exclusively seems to focus on fun and games at the beach, at a pond, and on families enjoying their vacations, having picnics outdoors and obviously also relishing and loving the warm temperatures of Summer. But while I can appreciate and understand Gerda Muller concentrating on the latter in Summer, as this seems to basically also be the general consensus regarding Summer for the majority, well, as someone who often finds the air temperatures in June, July and August much much too hot and too humid, and the beach too crowded, too noisy and rather boring, personally, I would most definitely also be wanting at least a few illustrative spreads in Summer where Gerda Muller is depicting those of us for whom Summer is generally not such an all encompassing joy and pleasure (and not to mention, considering that severe thunderstorms and as such also resulting power outages and fallen trees can also be and often actually are a major part of Summer, I do find it a bit ridiculous that Gerda Muller depicts not even one instance of inclement weather conditions in Summer, and no, for me a few lightning bolts in the far distance do not really count).
Now while I usually do generally prefer textual over wordless picture books, well, Gerda Muller’s illustrations for Summer, they really do not at all require a verbal narrative, since they in my humble opinion clearly visually demonstrate what Summer is all about (a bit too pro summer for me, a bit too one-sidedly positive, but as such of course pretty well perfect for lovers of the season and therefore much recommended). And finally, even though I totally think that with Summer , Gerda Muller has created a true seasonal celebration, I do wonder why the seemingly token African American or African European child is depicted as always scowling, as basically never smiling. Because while I certainly appreciate that with Summer Gerda Muller is obviously trying to be a bit more ethnically diverse with her pictures, I really would for one be wanting more than one child presented in Summer with a darker skin tone and that for two, it really does visually bother me how consistently unsmiling and even potentially nasty that one child’s facial features are depicted, are drawn by Gerda Muller.
Mod
Dutch picture-book artist Gerda Muller’s majorly and sweetly charming wordless tale is devoted (as the title naturally and obviously already suggests) to Autumn (and there are in fact three other such board books, representing Spring, Summer and Winter respectively).
And Gerda Muller’s artwork in Autmn, it almost exclusively seems to focus mainly 0n young children happily and enthusiastically engaging in a variety of diverse fun, games and Fall based activities, both outside and inside, both during clear and sunny weather and also when it is stormy and raining, and with many of the depicted arts and crafts activities encountered in Autumn (including constructing and then flying a kite) actually also feeling more than a bit sweetly nostalgic for and to me. For indeed, I do well remember and recall many similar such scenarios as a child, before our family moved from Germany to Canada in 1976, which in my humble opinion equally also tends to make Autumn decidedly Western European and thus not so much Canadian and American in scope (and which is in all likelihood also the main reason why there are neither Halloween nor Thanksgiving scenes depicted by Gerda Muller in Autumn and why brightly red and orange coloured Fall leaves are not quite as intensely presented and not as omnipresent as they probably would be in an Autumn themed and based picture book set not in Western Europe but in North America).
Now while I usually do generally very much prefer textual over wordless picture books, well, Gerda Muller’s illustrations for Autumn, they really do not at all require an accompanying verbal narrative, since they in my humble opinion clearly and visually demonstrate what Autumn, what Fall is all about. But albeit I totally think and believe that with Autumn , Gerda Muller has illustratively created a true and aesthetically delightful seasonal celebration, I still and nevertheless do have to point out that there is a pretty obvious lack of ethnic diversity present in Autumn, something that I might not on a personal level consider huge or majorly problematic, although if I were for example considering a wordless seasonal picture book to introduce Autumn to a group of ethnically diverse youngsters, I would most probably consider a less one-sidedly Caucasian tome (and that I therefore also only choose to recommend Autumn with a few reservations and caveats).
Mod
There is nothing really textually stimulating with regard to Colors, and no, considering that Colors is geared specifically towards toddlers, I certainly also did expect John Burningham's printed words to be very basic (as befits what a board book is supposed to accomplish).
But Burningham's accompanying artwork for Colors is actually quite visually intricate and pretty full of descriptive detail, with all kinds of varied and diverse objects, people and animals being shown and my one main aesthetic complaint about Colors being that for my eyes, the toddlers John Burningham draws do all tend to look a bit like little old bald headed men (and that for 1985, I also kind of find it rather frustrating that there is absolutely no ethnic and very little gender diversity being depicted within the twenty-four pages of Colors). And considering that the text for Colors is not only really simplistic but actually does not really mirror the illustrations all that well and all that much either (since John Burningham only presents the colour names and nothing but the colour names, sufficient, I guess, but also rather lacking, rather boringly one-dimensional in my humble opinion), while I do think that John Burningham accomplishes his intention of introducing basic colours to the very young with Colors, if I were using this book with and for young children (up to about the age of four maximum), if I were reading Colors to the intended audience, I would definitely use the illustrations to supplementally be textually expanding, since indeed except for the featured colour words, Burningham's writing does NOT AT ALL describe his featured pictures.
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With her 2004 picture book Sharing a Shell British children's author Julia Donaldson has a hermit crab busily searching on the beach and in tidal pools for a new home as his/her older abode is no longer big enough. And upon finding a new and suitably spacious shell in which to live, a sea anemone comes along and asks to share the hermit crab's new place of residence with the promise to protect the crab (and of course also the shell) from predators, and then a passing bristleworm also asks, offering to keep the shell clean ad tidy in return (and with the crab quite readily agreeing to basically having two permanent roommates). But after a period of time a bigger shell is once again needed, and while at first the hermit carb, sea anemone and bristleworm squabble amongst themselves and end up going their separate ways, at the end of Sharing a Shell, the bristleworm finds a new and larger shell, and crab, sea anemone and bristleworm once again move in together.
Now of course, Julia Donaldson's text for Sharing a Shell is not really scientifically realistic with regard to how hermit crabs find their shells (although it is indeed true that both sea anemones and bristleworms often do reside with hermit crabs in a symbiotic relationship, and in my humble opinion, I think it would make Sharing a Shell a bit better and also more interesting if Julia Donaldson would provide a short author's note to that effect). But no, I am also and definitely not in any way insinuating that Sharing a Shell absolutely requires such an author's note. For yes and truly, Donaldson's rhyming text for Sharing a Shell is first and foremost fun, rollicking, song-like and delightfully provides an entertaining and brightly, colourfully illustrated by Lydia Monks story that provides for young children a great lesson regarding the importance of sharing and being good neighbours but without this ever feeling annoyingly didactic and patronising, and leaving in particular my inner child (even though I originally was kind of expecting considerably more realism in Sharing a Shell) broadly smiling and considering both Julia Donaldson's story and Lydia Monks' artwork sweetly fun and highly recommended to and for young children from about the age of three to six.
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Although I have most definitely enjoyed the main and fundamental messages presented in Ruth Krauss' classic picture book The Carrot Seed (and that although The Carrot Seed was first published over sixty years ago, in 1945, the concept of the little boy, the diminutive gardener, sticking to his proverbial guns, believing that his planted carrot seed will one day indeed become a carrot, no matter what the naysayers, no matter what his family claims to the contrary, is as important, as cheering and yes indeed as fresh now as it was then), I cannot really claim that Crocket Johnson's accompanying illustrations are all that much to my personal liking. For while they are delightfully simple and expressive, aesthetically, the colour schemes used feel rather a bit off-putting and strange, with especially the fact that the harvested carrot ends up looking very pink being rather majorly and personally jarring (and no, I do not in any way despise the illustrations, I just know that on an entirely personal and visual level, I would enjoy Crocket Johnson's pictures of the little boy, his doubting family and the end result, the carrot, considerably more, if different colours than mostly browns and yellows were used and if the harvested vegetable looked like an actual carrot colour wise, looked bright orange and not so garishly pink).
Still, The Carrot Seed remains highly recommended, and for those who might claim that the doubting family members are somehow problematic for a picture book geared at young children, I say this (namely, sorry but it is indeed often family members who tend to rain on their children's proverbial parades, who cast doubt, who while perhaps trying to teach a lesson, to try to make children face so-called reality, can do much potential harm with regard to thwarting ambition, imagination and self confidence, and it is therefore and indeed so massively cheering that Ruth Krauss has with her The Carrot Seed presented a little boy, who does not let his family's doubts and constant negativity faze him, who keeps watering and weeding his little garden patch until one day, a carrot does in fact come up in all its glory and he is awarded for his patience and faithful belief).
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For certain, Leslie Patricelli's Toot is humorous and will likely be a hit with many toddlers, but I for one do find the absolute and total emphasis on farting, on flatulence, more than a bit tedious and wearing (and furthermore, I also do think that it is rather massively presumptuous at best for the author, for Leslie Patricelli to assume and expect that most if not actually all very young children automatically and by nature would and should be so obsessed with and by farting behaviours that it requires an entire board book just on that).
Combined with accompanying illustrations that while indeed bright and lively, are ultimately much too cartoon like and emotionless for my tastes, Toot is most definitely the type of specifically toddler-oriented board book that I can on a certain level perhaps appreciate somewhat, but can only consider funny and in any way engaging for about two minutes maximum, with both text and images becoming almost instantly forgettable.
And finally, annoyingly, much of the presented textual content of Toot is at least in my humble opinion also rather massively generalising. For why should daddies (men) be depicted as generally, usually tooting loudly, whilst mommies (women) are described by the author as always, as mostly tooting quitely and clandestinely? Two stars for Toot and really only recommended for families with young toddlers who are seriously and lastingly enamoured of the featured topic, who consider flatuence and other such bodily function sounds inherently hilarious and shareable.
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As a wordless picture book, Chris Raschka's A Ball for Daisy is sweetly expressive, and I do much appreciate and heartfully enjoy the simplicity of the featured "text" (in other words, even as someone who for the most part, who generally, finds written narrative much more easily understood and fathomed than illustrated pictorial images, I have indeed been able to figure out the entire storyline of A Ball for Daisy without difficulty, without any type of comprehension issues whatsoever, without the need for printed words). It is simply a tender little tale about a little dog whose favourite toy, a red ball, accidentally gets destroyed, gets popped by another dog. And I do so love that the ball gets replaced, that the owner of the dog who accidentally popped and destroyed the red ball brings another ball for Daisy, a blue ball, but a more than adequate and thoughtfully contrite replacement (although I do have to admit that while I appreciate, while I in fact adore how thoughtfully the destroyed and deflated red ball gets replaced, I kind of have to massively cringe at the image of Daisy's owner callously taking the flat remnants of the red ball away from Daisy and simply, callously tossing it into the trash with seemingly scant thoughts as to Daisy's feelings and that she might perhaps desire or even need to keep the deflated, the destroyed red ball as a kind of remembrance).
Three stars, for while I do much appreciate the illustrations of A Ball for Daisy and as pointed out above, very much enjoy and yes, even love, the wordless storyline (and the messages of contriteness, of owning up, of making up for mishaps even caused by accident), I cannot say that the presented, featured illustrations, that the images would in any manner be personal favourites, be all that much to my aesthetic tastes (I do realise and understand that this book, that A Ball for Daisy won the 2012 Caldecott Medal for Chris Raschka, a fact and scenario that I also have to at least personally question and wonder at a bit, because while the illustrations are indeed expressive, lively and sweet, they are just not all that spectacular to and for me personally, but then again, for the intended audience, they totally and likely will hit the proverbial sweet spot).
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Traci Sorell has with her We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga created a truly glowing, moving and yes indeed brightly sparkling homage to the Cherokee Nation (of which she is a member), a simple yet at the same time deeply profound narrative that above all, that first and foremost presents and depicts the modern Cherokee not as exotic, not as the "other" but simply, sweetly, descriptively as individuals, as people going about their day to day business, their routines (like everyone tends to do), being appreciative of, being grateful for life's many blessings (as well as its struggles and challenges), whilst of course and naturally also at the same time celebrating traditional Cherokee culture, spirituality, religion. An in all ways wonderful and evocative marriage of Traci Sorell's loving and tender text and Frané Lessac's descriptively colourful, imaginative accompanying images is We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga, with the fact that the included Cherokee words are penned in both English lettering and Cherokee syllabics being the absolute icing on the cake for me, and a very much appreciated bonus (although in the Kindle version of We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga, the back material, the supplemental details, they are sadly and frustratingly presented in such a tiny and minuscule font size that I have had major issues being able to read this without a very strong magnifying glass).
And therefore, while I will definitely and gladly rank We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga with a more than well deserved and shining five stars, I do in fact NOT recommend the Kindle, I do NOT recommend the e-book edition of We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga (because as an e-book, We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga is just not very reader and user friendly regrading the to and for me oh so essential and interesting information at the end of the book, the definitions, the author's note and especially and in particular, the legend for the Cherokee syllabary, which is really and truly nigh illegible on the Kindle).
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Although I have found Werner Holzwarth's Vom kleinen Maulwurf, der wissen wollte, wer ihm auf den Kopf gemacht hat cute enough, naughty and yes, at times even somewhat laugh aloud hilarious (with especially Wolf Erlbruch's accompanying illustrations of the vrious types of animal poop both expressive and somehow disgustingly appealing), personally, I was and remain rather visually disgusted by the fact that the little mole just keeps the piece of dogshit on his head whilst he is running around, trying to discover what type of animal pooped on his head.
And considering that we Germans already have a to and for me rather frustrating and problematic international reputation of being majorly obsessed with anything and everything anal (with certain scholars and anthopologists even claiming that the success of the National Socialists, that Nazism, that the Third Reich was somehow made possible because of our tendency to enjoy and revel in excrement-based humour and the like), Vom kleinen Maulwurf, der wissen wollte, wer ihm auf den Kopf gemacht hat, while it did cause me to chuckle and smile once or twice, more often than not, both text and images have actually made me feel rather uncomfortable, even to the point of cringing and shuddering at the probability of more potential stereotyping (and furthermore, the tit-for-tat revenge type ending, I really could do without, as in my humble opinion, while the little mole might have found out from the two flies that the piece of excrement on his noggin is from a canine, it is never even remotely shown that the butcher's dog Hans-Heinerich deliberarely defecated on the little mole's head and thus, the little mole defecating on the dog's head out of spite and revenge seems, or at least to me, immature, petty and rather vilely nasty and sad).
Children's Books
Books mentioned in this topic
Moby Dick: A BabyLit® Storybook: A BabyLit® Storybook (other topics)I Kissed the Baby! (other topics)
Little Seed (other topics)
Who Ate the Little Bug? (other topics)
We Are the Rainbow!: The Colors of Pride (other topics)
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Jack Wang (other topics)Mary Murphy (other topics)
Teagan White (other topics)
Teagan White (other topics)
Atinuke (other topics)
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