MR. COMPLAIN TAKES THE TRAIN

Interactive tomfoolery reaches new heights (and the occasional depth) when a perpetual crank’s mood meets its match.

Mr. Complain lives up to his name. Clad in a Tyrolean hat and an oversized ascot, the mustachioed, elderly White gent boards a train in the hope of reaching a vacation destination. Alas, at all times he is beset with problems that only he seems to detect. The train compartment he initially sits in is “too happy,” but outside is “too sad.” His animal seatmates are “too bubbly,” “too prickly,” and “too piggly.” The dining car offers some respite, until it starts tilting about—thanks to instructions given specifically to the book’s readers, who are encouraged again and again to wreak extra havoc on the ride. Though Mr. Complain cannot open his mouth without moaning, a relentlessly chipper ostrich conductor meets every last one of the cranky guest’s peeves with reassurance. Surely any adult or child who has ever experienced a flood of nonstop negativity will instantly recognize the Mr. Complains in their own lives. Britt’s thickly inked figures and Beccia’s digital colors bring the train and its chaotic passengers to life; Mr. Complain is particularly amusing, with a neckless, egg-shaped head rising out of a body ending in two tiny feet. It will be hard for child audiences to complain when seeing this story in action. Mr. Complain is the only human in the book.

Aim this train for the nearest storytime and choo-choo-choose it anytime.