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TEN LITTLE DUMPLINGS

Stepping out of the shadows: a gentle, persuasive #ownvoices take on a hitherto-untold perspective.

A girl with 10 brothers claims her place in both the family narrative and the world at large.

Amid a pastoral Taiwanese setting, this picture book opens with a male-centered viewpoint touting the super specialness of a family blessed with 10 sons, whom their parents call “little dumplings,” because dumplings are “auspicious, / Bringing prosperity and success.” (Dumplings’ oval shape intentionally resembles yuanbao—gold or silver ingots that were real currency in imperial China for over two millennia, a fact not, alas, shared in the author’s note. The brothers’ similar sizes also conjure the “Ten Brothers” legend in Chinese popular culture, which is.) Seemingly larger than life, these 10 brothers lack individuality when portrayed as a unit, doing “everything together” and becoming “ten fine men”—a desirable outcome that nonetheless hints at an in-group mentality that can marginalize those who do not conform. Readers need to look closely to find the girl Wume cleverly hides in each double-page spread: She dons the iconic school-uniform hat and is part of the action even when obscured. Then the perspective shifts: First writing herself into the story by forming 女 (female) with a calligraphy brush, she eventually, deftly reframes the narrative to assert: “I was there too.… // I listened. // I studied. // I learned.” Eventually, she becomes a mother and celebrates her personal fortune for having a “wonderful girl”—her very own “little dumpling.”(This book was reviewed digitally.)

Stepping out of the shadows: a gentle, persuasive #ownvoices take on a hitherto-untold perspective. (Picture book. 5-7)

Pub Date: Jan. 5, 2021

ISBN: 978-0-7352-6619-3

Page Count: 48

Publisher: Tundra Books

Review Posted Online: Dec. 14, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2021

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ROBOBABY

A retro-futuristic romp, literally and figuratively screwy.

Robo-parents Diode and Lugnut present daughter Cathode with a new little brother—who requires, unfortunately, some assembly.

Arriving in pieces from some mechanistic version of Ikea, little Flange turns out to be a cute but complicated tyke who immediately falls apart…and then rockets uncontrollably about the room after an overconfident uncle tinkers with his basic design. As a squad of helpline techies and bevies of neighbors bearing sludge cake and like treats roll in, the cluttered and increasingly crowded scene deteriorates into madcap chaos—until at last Cath, with help from Roomba-like robodog Sprocket, stages an intervention by whisking the hapless new arrival off to a backyard workshop for a proper assembly and software update. “You’re such a good big sister!” warbles her frazzled mom. Wiesner’s robots display his characteristic clean lines and even hues but endearingly look like vaguely anthropomorphic piles of random jet-engine parts and old vacuum cleaners loosely connected by joints of armored cable. They roll hither and thither through neatly squared-off panels and pages in infectiously comical dismay. Even the end’s domestic tranquility lasts only until Cathode spots the little box buried in the bigger one’s packing material: “TWINS!” (This book was reviewed digitally with 9-by-22-inch double-page spreads viewed at 52% of actual size.)

A retro-futuristic romp, literally and figuratively screwy. (Picture book. 5-7)

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2020

ISBN: 978-0-544-98731-9

Page Count: 32

Publisher: Clarion Books

Review Posted Online: June 2, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2020

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ANZU THE GREAT KAIJU

From the Anzu the Great Kaiju series , Vol. 1

A tongue-in-cheek bildungsroman about celebrating differences and the underrated superpowers of gentleness and sweetness.

Kaijus—giant Godzilla-like creatures—are supposed to have fearsome powers like atomic breath, the ability to summon storms, and magnetism—but not young Anzu.

Instead, he was born with the power of finding “beauty in small things.” Finally old enough to be assigned his own personal city to terrorize, Anzu hopes to impress his fond parents. But instead of inflicting fiery destruction on the tiny kodamalike residents at his feet, the best he can do is rain garlands of flowers down on them. He tries to wreak havoc by uprooting a tree but instead ends up creating a peaceful playground of blossoming animal topiaries. “I’ll never strike fear,” Anzu frets. “Am I even a kaiju?” Young readers may well share his doubts since, despite towering over the city of lumpy buildings made from low mounds of dirt, he and his family look more like cute, plump stuffies than scary reptilian beasts. When Anzu does at last manage a little devastation, his feeling of triumph is short-lived—and so, to restore joy and laughter, he exerts his special flower powers with surprising, and satisfying, results. The text is engaging and heartwarming without being cloying. The bright, colorful illustrations are rendered in watercolor and ink. Full-bleed artwork is interspersed with panels, which, along with the use of narrative boxes, lend a graphic feel to the presentation.

A tongue-in-cheek bildungsroman about celebrating differences and the underrated superpowers of gentleness and sweetness. (Graphic picture book. 5-7)

Pub Date: Jan. 11, 2022

ISBN: 978-1-250-77612-9

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

Review Posted Online: Dec. 15, 2021

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2022

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