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THE LIZARD AND THE SUN/LA LAGARTIJA Y EL SOL

Ada (Mediopollito/Half-Chicken, 1995, etc.) elongates a Mexican folktale about a tenacious lizard who won't stop looking for the sun when it disappears; D†valos creates a series of half-lit, blue-toned spreads that evoke the world of the Aztec empire. A first-person introduction explains natural absences of the sun (behind the clouds, etc.), and prepares readers for a time, long ago, when the sun disappeared for no reason. Animals and birds search for it, and fail; only the lizard continues, finding a strangely glowing rock and rushing off to the city to tell the emperor. He tells her to move the rock, which she attempts, but the rock won't budge—once more, she's off to the city. The emperor comes to the rock with a woodpecker, and its beak splits the rock open, revealing a sleeping sun, who drowsily agrees to return to the sky if the emperor will provide the liveliest musicians and dancers. So the entertainment is arranged, and all ends well, with the inauguration of an annual feast. English and Spanish texts appear on each spread of this pleasant tale, diluted only by the several journeys of the lizard between rock and city, and the sun's prolonged resistance to waking up. (Picture book/folklore. 5-8)

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 1997

ISBN: 0-385-32121-X

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Doubleday

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1997

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I WISH YOU MORE

Although the love comes shining through, the text often confuses in straining for patterned simplicity.

A collection of parental wishes for a child.

It starts out simply enough: two children run pell-mell across an open field, one holding a high-flying kite with the line “I wish you more ups than downs.” But on subsequent pages, some of the analogous concepts are confusing or ambiguous. The line “I wish you more tippy-toes than deep” accompanies a picture of a boy happily swimming in a pool. His feet are visible, but it's not clear whether he's floating in the deep end or standing in the shallow. Then there's a picture of a boy on a beach, his pockets bulging with driftwood and colorful shells, looking frustrated that his pockets won't hold the rest of his beachcombing treasures, which lie tantalizingly before him on the sand. The line reads: “I wish you more treasures than pockets.” Most children will feel the better wish would be that he had just the right amount of pockets for his treasures. Some of the wordplay, such as “more can than knot” and “more pause than fast-forward,” will tickle older readers with their accompanying, comical illustrations. The beautifully simple pictures are a sweet, kid- and parent-appealing blend of comic-strip style and fine art; the cast of children depicted is commendably multiethnic.

Although the love comes shining through, the text often confuses in straining for patterned simplicity. (Picture book. 5-8)

Pub Date: April 1, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-4521-2699-9

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Chronicle Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 15, 2015

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2015

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NOT A BOX

Dedicated “to children everywhere sitting in cardboard boxes,” this elemental debut depicts a bunny with big, looping ears demonstrating to a rather thick, unseen questioner (“Are you still standing around in that box?”) that what might look like an ordinary carton is actually a race car, a mountain, a burning building, a spaceship or anything else the imagination might dream up. Portis pairs each question and increasingly emphatic response with a playscape of Crockett Johnson–style simplicity, digitally drawn with single red and black lines against generally pale color fields. Appropriately bound in brown paper, this makes its profound point more directly than such like-themed tales as Marisabina Russo’s Big Brown Box (2000) or Dana Kessimakis Smith’s Brave Spaceboy (2005). (Picture book. 5-7)

Pub Date: Dec. 1, 2006

ISBN: 0-06-112322-6

Page Count: 32

Publisher: HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2006

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