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THE BLOBFISH BOOK

Fine for a metafictive read-aloud but not so great as science.

The world’s ugliest animal speaks up.

In the tradition of Kelly Bingham and Paul O. Zelinsky's Moose and David Ezra Stein’s Interrupting Chicken, Blobfish takes over a book about deep-sea creatures, inserting itself into every page. A straightforward text about deep-sea life, a sentence or two set on a background of photographs, is interrupted on every double-page spread by an impatient cartoon blobfish and its own commentary. When its photograph finally appears, the text notes that it “was once voted the world’s ugliest.” Naturally, its feelings are hurt. At this point, the other animals—viperfish, jellyfish, jewel squid, anglerfish, blenny fish, giant spider crab, and northern stoplight loosejaw—acquire speech bubbles too, banding together to make their own crayoned page with a message of support. The humor is grand, the informational value modest. Olien has juxtaposed creatures that may live far apart in real life. On a diagram of ocean zones (with only English measurements), Blobfish points to the 13,000-foot line between the bathypelagic and abyssopelagic zone to show where he lives “in the deep, deep part”; since there is yet another zone below 20,000 feet, readers will wonder exactly what “deep, deep” means. Moreover, in truth, blobfish seem to live around 2,000-4,000 feet down. They also probably look quite different at their proper depth; the photo in the book was taken at the surface. Further facts and suggestions for websites to explore are added in the backmatter.

Fine for a metafictive read-aloud but not so great as science. (Informational picture book. 4-7)

Pub Date: May 31, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-06-239415-6

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2016

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MANGO, ABUELA, AND ME

This warm family story is a splendid showcase for the combined talents of Medina, a Pura Belpré award winner, and Dominguez,...

Abuela is coming to stay with Mia and her parents. But how will they communicate if Mia speaks little Spanish and Abuela, little English? Could it be that a parrot named Mango is the solution?

The measured, evocative text describes how Mia’s español is not good enough to tell Abuela the things a grandmother should know. And Abuela’s English is too poquito to tell Mia all the stories a granddaughter wants to hear. Mia sets out to teach her Abuela English. A red feather Abuela has brought with her to remind her of a wild parrot that roosted in her mango trees back home gives Mia an idea. She and her mother buy a parrot they name Mango. And as Abuela and Mia teach Mango, and each other, to speak both Spanish and English, their “mouths [fill] with things to say.” The accompanying illustrations are charmingly executed in ink, gouache, and marker, “with a sprinkling of digital magic.” They depict a cheery urban neighborhood and a comfortable, small apartment. Readers from multigenerational immigrant families will recognize the all-too-familiar language barrier. They will also cheer for the warm and loving relationship between Abuela and Mia, which is evident in both text and illustrations even as the characters struggle to understand each other. A Spanish-language edition, Mango, Abuela, y yo, gracefully translated by Teresa Mlawer, publishes simultaneously.

This warm family story is a splendid showcase for the combined talents of Medina, a Pura Belpré award winner, and Dominguez, an honoree. (Picture book. 4-7)

Pub Date: Aug. 25, 2015

ISBN: 978-0-7636-6900-3

Page Count: 32

Publisher: Candlewick

Review Posted Online: April 14, 2015

Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2015

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THE MOST MAGNIFICENT THING

Spires’ understanding of the fragility and power of the artistic impulse mixes with expert pacing and subtle...

Making things is difficult work. Readers will recognize the stages of this young heroine’s experience as she struggles to realize her vision.

First comes anticipation. The artist/engineer is spotted jauntily pulling a wagonload of junkyard treasures. Accompanied by her trusty canine companion, she begins drawing plans and building an assemblage. The narration has a breezy tone: “[S]he makes things all the time. Easy-peasy!” The colorful caricatures and creations contrast with the digital black outlines on a white background that depict an urban neighborhood. Intermittent blue-gray panels break up the white expanses on selected pages showing sequential actions. When the first piece doesn’t turn out as desired, the protagonist tries again, hoping to achieve magnificence. A model of persistence, she tries many adjustments; the vocabulary alone offers constructive behaviors: she “tinkers,” “wrenches,” “fiddles,” “examines,” “stares” and “tweaks.” Such hard work, however, combines with disappointing results, eventually leading to frustration, anger and injury. Explosive emotions are followed by defeat, portrayed with a small font and scaled-down figures. When the dog, whose expressions have humorously mirrored his owner’s through each phase, retrieves his leash, the resulting stroll serves them well. A fresh perspective brings renewed enthusiasm and—spoiler alert—a most magnificent scooter sidecar for a loyal assistant.

Spires’ understanding of the fragility and power of the artistic impulse mixes with expert pacing and subtle characterization for maximum delight. (Picture book. 4-7)

Pub Date: April 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-1-55453-704-4

Page Count: 32

Publisher: Kids Can

Review Posted Online: Feb. 25, 2014

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2014

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