CORNELIA AND THE JUNGLE MACHINE

A family moves into a new house, and a child finds a playmate.

Cornelia is not a fan of the family’s new multistory Victorian house, with its copious antiques and dearth of playmates. The parents suggest having “a look around outside” instead. Sporting a blue cape, Cornelia and a scruffy dog companion wander into the tall surrounding trees. They find a ladder, climb into the treetops, and find a marvelous branched-out treehouse. Lounging in a hammock on the porch is Fredrik, who welcomes them and shows off many inventions: There are hanging, bed-sized nests of pillows and cranks for watering hard-to-reach plants—but “the best” is a “Jungle Machine.” After some wheel-twisting and button-pushing, tropical plants emerge from gramophone-like horns, sprouting into a full jungle, complete with swinging vines, a river, and a red-plumed bird large enough to ride. After some adventuring, Cornelia returns home more optimistic about the new living situation. The matter-of-fact, largely wordless text provides only a slight lift beyond the unexplained, implausible circumstances, but it also allows readers’ minds to wander through the fantastical possibilities. Characters present white; the eye patch–wearing Fredrik has the demeanor of an arboreal Pippi Longstocking. The pictures are intricately lined and rich with detail. Expansive images push beyond their edges to make grand use of the tall, rectangular trim.

An imaginative fantasy that gives readers plenty of room to roam.