Toys come alive in a child’s disheveled room, each with its own instrument and unique sound, and chime together for a bedtime song. The gnome’s drum goes boom boom, while the elf’s ancient gong goes ding ding; the little knight’s battle bells go bong bong. As other toys join in, piling more sounds into the refrain, readers may grow weary and confused by a beat that never fully reveals itself. Often the sounds themselves fail to resonate—would an ancient gong emit a teeny ding ding? In each verse mama or papa suggests, “You had better go to bed,” and the prancing doll barks, “ ‘Hush! Don’t spoil the rhythm of my drum [gong, bells, etc.]’ / boom boom / ‘Go away!’ ” Few children will feel lulled by such bratty behavior nor by the cacophony of sounds. Ibatoulline’s flat artwork falls short of capturing the magic of an animated toy; bland miniatures appear frozen amid piles of clutter and dull backdrops of washed, graduated color. As more toys, sounds and text jumble each page, readers may be tempted to simply shut the book and enjoy the sounds of silence. (Picture book. 2-5)
