The fisherman’s wife gets, as usual, short shrift…but this is a rollicking rendition, particularly well-suited to reading...
A familiar folk tale collected by the Brothers Grimm, transplanted to the bayou.
Swamp creatures intone a rhythmic chorus—“ ‘The fish was a-splashin’ as Paul went a-crashin’ / down to the bottom of the boat.’ / Kerplunk!”—each time the fisherman rows out to beg another wish of the talking sac-a-lait (the crappie suffers, she wails, under a spell from the evil swamp queen) at the behest of his ambitious wife, Paulette. So it is that Paulette gets a new pot, then goes from a cook whose gumbo earns raves from all over to mistress of a big house in a wealthy neighborhood. But her ultimate demand to be queen of the Mardi Gras Ball leaves the couple as poor yet happy as they began. Unlike the wife in another Cajun version, Whitney Stewart’s Catfish Tale, illustrated by Gerald Guerlais (2014), Paulette never takes any action to redeem herself. But Paul comes off as kindhearted rather than henpecked; so much so, in fact, that he gets one final, unspoken wish, which he bestows on the sac-a-lait herself. And soon a magnificent new Mardi Gras queen is crowned. Both as fish and, later, queen, the sac-a-lait sports glamorous, long-lashed blue eyes and lush red lips in Leonhard’s comically hyperbolic illustrations. Paul and Paulette present as white, but along with showing a range of ruddy bronze skin tones, the whole, robust human cast includes some African-American members.
The fisherman’s wife gets, as usual, short shrift…but this is a rollicking rendition, particularly well-suited to reading aloud. (afterword, glossary) (Picture book/folk tale. 6-8)Pub Date: Feb. 1, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-4556-2366-2
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Pelican
Review Posted Online: Oct. 29, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2017
Well-meant but too often oversimplified.
A set of elephant facts designed to spark lifelong interest in protecting these curious and unique creatures.
Like its subjects, the presentation has a few wrinkles. Though otherwise rendered realistically enough to tell the different types apart, the pachyderms first visible through a shaped cutout in the front cover sport oversized googly eyes. Labels identifying some of the flora and fauna visible in Clulow’s forest and grassland scenes are usually helpful, but seeing elephants tagged “African forest elephant” and “African savanna elephants” without explanation in the wake of the author’s statement earlier that there are only two species—Asian and African—is confusing. Otherwise, along with inset suggestions for ways to find out more or to get involved in elephant conservation, Barr does offer a set of simply phrased physical and behavioral observations—the titular reasons to love an elephant—that are strong in reader appeal: “1: They have the biggest noses in the world”; “6: They cuddle and care.” The co-published 10 Reasons to Love a Turtle shares the appeal but has cracks of its own. It’s really just about the seven kinds of sea turtles (an arbitrary limitation compounded by the bizarre claim that “all turtles live in the ocean”), and it features an animal cast that is all smiles (sharks included) and odd-looking eyes.
Well-meant but too often oversimplified. (Informational picture book. 6-8)Pub Date: Aug. 3, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-84780-942-1
Page Count: 24
Publisher: Frances Lincoln
Review Posted Online: June 4, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2017
This view into Procter’s brief life connects her early passion for reptiles with her innovative career combining scientific...
Valdez introduces Joan Procter, whose lifelong love of reptiles yielded a career at London’s Natural History Museum and the London Zoo.
Avid for reptiles from childhood, Joan received a crocodile for her 16th birthday. First assisting, then succeeding the museum’s curator of reptiles, Joan surveyed the collections, published papers, and made models for exhibits. Her designs for the zoo’s reptile house incorporated innovative lighting and heating as well as plants and artwork evoking the reptiles’ habitats. Joan’s reputation soared with the arrival of two 7-foot-long Komodo dragons, coinciding with the reptile house’s opening. Presenting a paper at the Zoological Society, Joan brought along one of them, Sumbawa, who ate a pigeon whole and strolled among attendees. Valdez’s narrative alludes to Procter’s poor health obliquely: pet reptiles cheered her “on the days Joan was too sick to attend school,” and a later spread depicts her “riding through the zoo” in a wheelchair. (An appended note explains that a “chronic intestinal illness” led to Joan’s death at just 34.) Sala portrays stylized reptiles and 1920s-era British clothing. People’s skin tones range from stark white to various tans and browns. Indeed, although she was white, Joan’s skin varies throughout, sometimes appearing white and pink and others times various shades of beige.
This view into Procter’s brief life connects her early passion for reptiles with her innovative career combining scientific research, practice, art, and design. (author’s note, bibliography of primary sources, photographs) (Picture book/biography. 6-8)Pub Date: March 13, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-399-55725-5
Page Count: 40
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: Nov. 26, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2017
© Copyright 2024 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
bookshelf
