by Milan Pavlović ; illustrated by Milan Pavlović ‧ RELEASE DATE: May 4, 2021
A loving ode to art forms that transcends language.
The titular boy and fish guide readers and nonreaders alike through a dreamy, textless journey.
Pavlović’s watercolor illustrations begin with soft purples and blues, depicting a cheerful fish drawn to the surface of a river by music—it’s the sound of a violin, played by a boy sitting by the water. Exhausted by his practicing, the boy falls asleep, awakening swimming through the air with his new scaly friend through an increasingly saturated dreamscape. The nameless boy and his companion retain their watery hues while floating past musicians and dancers, up to the stars and back again, until landing, Wizard of Oz–style, gently back in their original palette. The violin, abandoned by the riverside, is picked up by an elderly man—possibly the original boy—whereupon he meets and embraces a friendly fish. Emotive, expertly rendered watercolors inspire quiet contemplation and will be welcoming for all ages, encouraging appreciation for the many ways different art forms can transport a viewer or listener. The main figure, though described as a boy in the title, appears almost genderless and is pale and light-haired. Other humans are depicted with a wide range of ages and gender presentations and a variety of realistic and fantastical skin colors and hair textures. (This book was reviewed digitally with 11-by-16-inch double-page spreads viewed at 65% of actual size.)
A loving ode to art forms that transcends language. (Picture book. 4-8)Pub Date: May 4, 2021
ISBN: 978-1-77306-161-0
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Groundwood
Review Posted Online: March 16, 2021
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2021
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by Tish Rabe ; illustrated by Laura Hughes ‧ RELEASE DATE: June 21, 2016
While this is a fairly bland treatment compared to Deborah Lee Rose and Carey Armstrong-Ellis’ The Twelve Days of...
Rabe follows a young girl through her first 12 days of kindergarten in this book based on the familiar Christmas carol.
The typical firsts of school are here: riding the bus, making friends, sliding on the playground slide, counting, sorting shapes, laughing at lunch, painting, singing, reading, running, jumping rope, and going on a field trip. While the days are given ordinal numbers, the song skips the cardinal numbers in the verses, and the rhythm is sometimes off: “On the second day of kindergarten / I thought it was so cool / making lots of friends / and riding the bus to my school!” The narrator is a white brunette who wears either a tunic or a dress each day, making her pretty easy to differentiate from her classmates, a nice mix in terms of race; two students even sport glasses. The children in the ink, paint, and collage digital spreads show a variety of emotions, but most are happy to be at school, and the surroundings will be familiar to those who have made an orientation visit to their own schools.
While this is a fairly bland treatment compared to Deborah Lee Rose and Carey Armstrong-Ellis’ The Twelve Days of Kindergarten (2003), it basically gets the job done. (Picture book. 4-7)Pub Date: June 21, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-06-234834-0
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Harper/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: May 3, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 1, 2016
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by Jonathan Stutzman ; illustrated by Jay Fleck ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 5, 2019
Wins for compassion and for the refusal to let physical limitations hold one back.
With such short arms, how can Tiny T. Rex give a sad friend a hug?
Fleck goes for cute in the simple, minimally detailed illustrations, drawing the diminutive theropod with a chubby turquoise body and little nubs for limbs under a massive, squared-off head. Impelled by the sight of stegosaurian buddy Pointy looking glum, little Tiny sets out to attempt the seemingly impossible, a comforting hug. Having made the rounds seeking advice—the dino’s pea-green dad recommends math; purple, New Age aunt offers cucumber juice (“That is disgusting”); red mom tells him that it’s OK not to be able to hug (“You are tiny, but your heart is big!”), and blue and yellow older sibs suggest practice—Tiny takes up the last as the most immediately useful notion. Unfortunately, the “tree” the little reptile tries to hug turns out to be a pterodactyl’s leg. “Now I am falling,” Tiny notes in the consistently self-referential narrative. “I should not have let go.” Fortunately, Tiny lands on Pointy’s head, and the proclamation that though Rexes’ hugs may be tiny, “I will do my very best because you are my very best friend” proves just the mood-lightening ticket. “Thank you, Tiny. That was the biggest hug ever.” Young audiences always find the “clueless grown-ups” trope a knee-slapper, the overall tone never turns preachy, and Tiny’s instinctive kindness definitely puts him at (gentle) odds with the dinky dino star of Bob Shea’s Dinosaur Vs. series.
Wins for compassion and for the refusal to let physical limitations hold one back. (Picture book. 5-7)Pub Date: March 5, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-4521-7033-6
Page Count: 48
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Review Posted Online: Nov. 11, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2018
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