THE TROLLS OF THE TURKEY RIVER

Veteran illustrator Geisert’s third in the Clayton County trilogy is grounded in his longtime patch of northeastern Iowa.

On the Turkey River’s bank, two clans reside uneasily cheek-by-jowl. The trolls dwell happily in hollows under the river, working, cooking, and making music. They “share a great big happiness, each one feeling what the others feel.” They make mischief, too, delighting in swapping out the town’s manhole covers with ones forged and imprinted with troll faces and names. The human residents, equally content working and playing, inside and outside their riverside homes, bristle at the trolls’, erm, trolling. They tire of corn growing through the sidewalks, of the trolls’ flag-pilfering and sidewalk-flooding ways. Bu when the river rises and threatens the homes of both clans alike, they begin to consult and cooperate. Working efficiently, they bag sand and build a huge temporary levee that successfully keeps the river at bay. Together, the neighbors—one set white-appearing, the other with pea soup–green skin tones—celebrate with a feast, games, and music. The trolls enthusiastically transition into new above-ground homes—giant repurposed culvert pipes. Disaster averted, the two groups knit into one community that can cook, work, play, and even laugh at mischief together. Above Ganguly’s on-point text, Geisert’s hand-colored ink drawings brim with informed, perspectival details of a river town’s bridges, coal industry, and family farms.

A troll-spiced slice of Midwestern community, delivered with a wink from a venerable artist.