KIRKUS REVIEW
The sun takes readers on a world tour as it makes its way to each new dawning horizon.
It is dark when Coco crawls into bed for the night, but the sun is getting busy elsewhere. It greets polar bear cubs and a fishing vessel in the cold northern waters. It reflects off a whale’s eye and the bell of the paperboy’s bicycle. It lights the way through a Siberian forest, heats a yurt, crawls down an alley in China, “and waited patiently outside an old lady’s window to be let in.” The sun sparks a rainbow and dazzles a puddle. Then, sure as the world turns, it crawls in through Coco’s window, joins the family for breakfast, and after “such a dash, the sun had time on its hands. So did Coco! So did Coco’s friends!” Graham brings a little sentiment to the procession but only enough to light sympathy for all the characters on parade. The drawings are deftly unfussy, with an easy command of the watercolors. Their deliberate pacing recalls Mitsumasa Anno, and in their grand compass they are like a big, Whitmanesque hug. The story ends with a bird’s-eye view of a factory town, a shaft of sunlight slicing down to Coco’s yard and a new snow having fallen, with hoses and lawn mowers caught by surprise.
It’s great to be able to count on something; readers can count on both the sun and Graham. (Picture book. 4-6)
