Even mythological creatures can be shy.
Cy—he is the hairy gentleman with one big eye and a three-headed dog—is good at making things: toys, helmets, fireworks. But friends? Not so much. Cy would like friends, though, as Stephens’ writes in her minimal, plainspoken narrative. To make a friend requires venturing out of the comfortable confines of the workshop and meeting strangers—or, in Cy’s case, other strange, mythological creatures. His first attempts are awkward: a little too much teeth-gritted confidence and desperate eye contact. Without any preamble or segue, Cy decides that a good way to make friends is to have something to share. True enough. He fashions a chariot built for two, which, in Subisak’s playful artwork, Cy rattles over hill and through dale to master. Next time in town, Cy’s humble, accomplished at the art of eye contact, and soon in flight with a phoenix, which has thoughtfully shared a spare pair of wings to give the chariot lift. The wrinkles in continuity—how did Cy come up with the idea of sharing?—gloss over discovering actual tools on the road to friendship. Yet the lesson in generosity never goes wrong. On the other hand, the rear-endpaper introduction to various mythological creatures—some very obscure: Rtatoskr, the Teumessian fox—feels like an afterthought.
A tale of encouragement and gumption, simplified to the point of losing its characterization. (Picture book. 4-8)